The Girl in the Pages
by AnnaFrog
Summary: Someone is abducting women in rural North Carolina, and the BAU is called to help. When they arrive, they find that the newest victim is an FBI agent, and time is ticking to save her. Will they make it?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This is my first Criminal Minds fanfic. I am a Reid fan girl, I won't lie. MGG is just so damn adorable, and I love all his facial expressions, especially the way he bites his lips. Anyways, here it is. No idea how many chapters it'll be, just depends. I own nothing except my character, this plotline, and an intense desire to meet Matthew Gray Gubler. Enjoy!**

Chapter One

_You would think that being in the F.B.I. would be a little more thrilling, but so far my life is just as boring as it was when I was a kid. Growing up in sleepy little Franklinton, I always dreamed of doing something in law enforcement, catching the baddies. And now that I'm here, the "big time" of criminal justice, it's not nearly as action-packed as I thought it would be. Don't get me wrong, the firearms training was exciting, but I've never had reason to draw my weapon. I just wish something exciting would happen in my life_. _Bye__for now, Annie._

Anna Myers sighed as she set down her pen and closed her diary. It was true; nothing remarkable ever really happened around here. She worked for the FBI at the offices based in Charlotte, in the White Collar crimes division. While is was satisfying, watching the swine lose every last penny of riches they did not deserve, she had to admit, it was not where she pictured herself when she joined.

Anna Lee Myers was born in Franklinton, North Carolina, to Lorry and Jerry Myers in the fall of 1983. She had brown hair, brown eyes, a fair complexion, and a fairly average body build. Her grandfather, the retired sheriff of Franklinton, was her hero and the one who inspired her to go into law enforcement. Her father owned the only store in Franklinton, Myers' Convenience Store (called "The Store" for short), which made her practically small-town royalty.

She went to college, got a degree in elementary education, and started teaching third grade at the local elementary school. However, after three years, Anna realized that while she loved children and teaching, she wanted something more out of life. So, at the ripe age of twenty-five, she applied to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. She was accepted and placed in the White Collar Crimes division in the Charlotte field office.

This was exciting for about a year; Anna got a small thrill every time she flipped her badge out and announced she was with the FBI. But then, after bringing down the fifth fat cat who made millions off others' suffering, something terrible happened.

Anna's close friend, Kenny, was murdered. He was on his way home from work when he was forced from his car at gunpoint. The carjacker robbed him and shot him, leaving him in a ditch. Kenny had no family so Anna was called in to identify his body. He had also named her power of attorney and left her in charge of everything; she organized the funeral, the burial, and executed his will. She was also the one who had to keep on the police department to get them to investigate. Eventually, they found the man who did it; a local man who never worked an honest day in his life and preferred to steal to meet his needs. This made Anna realized that she was needed elsewhere; White Collar crimes may ruin peoples' lives, but murderers took them away.

So six months ago, she had put in a request to transfer to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Now she was just waiting until the transfer went through and then she was moving to Virginia. Until then, she had given up her apartment in Charlotte and moved back home to Franklinton. This was where she was as she wrote in her diary, her only companion, the only one she could tell everything to.

Anna put her diary back in her nightstand, grabbed her coat, and headed out the door. She had told her parents earlier that she would be going out to get something to eat. McDonald's was sounding good about now…

She had just turned off of the main highway onto one of the back roads that led to her house, double cheeseburger in hand, when headlights flashed in her rear-view mirror, blinding her. Scowling, she set her burger down to flip the mirror when she heard a loud _bang_ and felt the car jolt. She immediately slammed on the brakes and pulled her car over to the side. So close to home in this small town, she felt safe to get out of the car.

Getting out of the driver's side, Anna looked at the vehicle that had hit her; it was an over-large red truck, the kind that made one think the driver was overcompensating for something. _The typical redneck ride, just right for around here,_ Anna thought.

"Are you okay?" Anna called to the driver. He did not stir. Anna drew a little closer, cautious. A simple bump-up should not have caused much injury, especially in this big truck.

"Are you okay?" she called again, drawing closer to the door. Still no response. She had just put her hand on the handle to open the door when it suddenly swung open. Scared, she jumped back, barely avoiding the wrench that came swinging at her head.

"Sir," Anna said, thinking that maybe the man was in some sort of shock. "I'm with the FBI, sir, calm down." It soon became apparent that the man was in complete control of his body when he took another swing with the wrench. Anna jumped back and her hand went immediately to her right side, only to discover that her gun was not there; she had left it at home. After all, who would need a gun to get a cheeseburger?

The man lunged at her again and this time the wrench made contact with the side of Anna's head. Her vision swam and everything went fuzzy. She fell to the ground, hard. She distantly felt herself being picked up and placed in the bed of the truck, then covered with a tarp. As the truck rumbled to life and began to move, Anna kept it together long enough to form one last, coherent thought: _I lied, I don't want any excitement._ Then everything went black.

A state away, a team was gathering around a round table, briefing. They were preparing to make yet another trip to yet another small town.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Okay, I know it's starting off slow, but it's going to pick up, I promise. I'm working on chapter three now and it's looking pretty good. Thank you, those of you who "alerted" my story, I promise you will not be disappointed. Enjoy!**

Chapter Two

"Okay, quickly guys, we need to hurry," said Jennifer Jareau, passing out manila folders to the people seated around the table.

"Where are we heading this time?" asked David Rossi, opening his folder and looking through the papers.

"North Carolina," said JJ. "Small town called Franklinton. They believe they have a serial murderer, and I do, too. Look at the plasma." She grabbed the remote from the table and turned on the television, starting her presentation. A picture of a woman with brown hair and eyes popped up.

"This is Kara Matthews, twenty-nine years old, lived in Franklinton. She disappeared nine weeks ago. Her car was found abandoned on the side of a back road, there was some damage to the back fender." She hit the button on the remote again. A new picture came up, of the same woman, unmistakably dead.

"She was found six weeks ago buried in a patch of woods, by a hiker walking a trail. She hadn't been dead for more than twelve hours." JJ hit the button again. Another woman appeared on the screen, brown hair flying in the wind, her smile reaching all the way to her brown eyes.

"Nicole Watson, twenty-eight, a resident of Franklinton. She disappeared six weeks ago, the day after Kara Matthews was found. Her car was found on the side of a road, damage to the back end." Another click of the remote, and there was the woman, dead. "Found three weeks ago, buried in another patch of woods. She was found by a little boy and his grandfather going on a nature hike. She had been dead about two days." Another click, another woman, also with brown hair and eyes.

"And this is Danielle Miller, twenty-eight, also a resident of Franklinton. She disappeared three weeks ago, a day before Nicole Watson was found. Her car was found on a country road, damage to the back, just like the others."

Spencer Reid, boy genius, looked up from the files in his folder. "So the UnSub abducts a woman, holds her for three weeks, kills her, then dumps her. A day later, he abducts another woman and repeats the cycle," said Reid.

"And I think it's safe to say he's using his car to get access to these women," said Derek Morgan. "He rams them from behind, and when they get out to inspect the damage, he grabs them."

"What does the UnSub do while he's holding these women?" asked Emily Prentiss.

"He beats them. Brutally," answered JJ.

Reid grabbed the remote and zeroed in on the Danielle Miller face.

"See the bruising on her face?" he said, pointing. "It's different colors; purple, blue, black, yellow. Different stages of healing; she was beaten over a number of days, weeks even. And the other women," he pulled up the Kara's and Nicole's pictures, "they have the same bruising all over their bodies, like they've been beaten for weeks. This suggests the UnSub's rage."

"Any sexual assault?" asked Rossi, leaning back in his chair, examining the screen.

"No," said JJ, "but it apparently wasn't for lack of trying. All of the women had their underwear ripped off and their blouses torn."

"They were all stabbed, says he's impotent," said Rossi.

"All the women look alike," said Reid. "White, brown eyes and hair. These women are more than likely a substitute for someone in the UnSub's life. A mother, wife, girlfriend."

"Everyone grab your go-bags, wheels up in fifteen minutes," said Agent Hotchner.

Everyone rose from their seats and scurried to get their things together; Danielle Miller was almost out of time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter three, and we're finally getting into the actual story. Please read and review. Enjoy!**

Chapter Three

The plane ride was short, only an hour or so, and they touched down in the middle of the nearest big city, about forty miles away from Franklinton. They were met by the Franklinton sheriff, an older, slightly round man with a good-natured face. However, his features were currently twisted with worry. JJ had seen this look before; every other small town law enforcement agent wore it when they feared there was a serial killer in their midst.

"Are you the FBI agents?" he asked.

JJ stepped forward and shook the man's hand. "Yes, I'm Jennifer Jareau, we spoke on the phone. These are SSAs Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and Dr. Spencer Reid."

"I'm Sheriff Frank Harrison," said the man. He looked incredibly stressed.

"Has their been any recent developments in the case?" asked Hotch.

"Yes," said the sheriff. "We found Danielle Miller next to a creek in the middle of the woods. And another girl's gone missing."

"Who?" asked Hotch.

"FBI agent Anna Myers," said the sheriff.

The team stood, shocked into momentary silence. An FBI agent?

"I didn't know other agents were working the case?" said JJ, giving the sheriff a quizzical look.

"They're not, only you guys. Agent Myers lives in Franklinton."

"There's no field office around Franklinton," said Hotch. "The nearest one is in Charlotte."

"I know," said Sheriff Harrison. "She was in the process of transferring from one office to another. She was living here with her parents in the meantime."

Hotch turned to his team. "Okay. Prentiss and David, you two check out where Danielle Miller was found. JJ, you and I will go to the sheriff's office and get everything set up. Morgan and Reid, you two go interview Agent Myer's family."

"I'll drive you into town and drop you off," said Harrison. "I'll fill you in on everything I know about Anna Myers on the way."

A few minutes later, they were all packed into the cramped SUV, listening to the sheriff recount about Agent Myers.

"I've known her since she was a little thing," said Harrison. "Her grandfather, Robert Myers, was the last sheriff of Franklinton. I served under him for twenty years, until he died about fifteen years ago. He used to always bring little Anna around the police station, and she would get into just about everything. Smartest little girl in town, just ask anyone, always curious about law enforcement and the justice system. Even after her grandfather died, she kept in touch. Surprised a lot of people when she went to college to major in Education. She got out, taught for a while, and then joined the Bureau. Her family owns the only store in Franklinton, which puts her pretty high up on the chain of command around here."

"Small town royalty," said JJ.

xXx

An hour later, Emily and Rossi had been dropped off at the last dump site. It was a little creek, just a bit of water, not very wide or deep. The grass was high and there were a few trees around the area.

"It's really peaceful around here," said Emily, looking around. She watched a butterfly take off from a dandelion and fly away.

"Yeah, until you realize that some poor woman was dropped here after her violent murder," said Rossi. In Emily's mind, the peaceful image shattered and the little grin that had appeared on her face slid off quickly. Leave it up to Dave to ruin a moment of serenity.

"They already took the body to the morgue, and the sheriff's department is finishing up scanning the area for evidence," said Emily.

"He always leaves the bodies in a wooded area," said Rossi. "But Danielle Miller wasn't buried, she was just dumped. What does that mean?"

"He didn't have enough time to bury her?" suggested Emily. "Maybe someone was coming and he had to dump her and run?"

"Maybe. But look around, if someone was walking by, they could've seen him easily. There's nowhere to hide. And over there are tire tracks, probably the UnSub's. I think he drove here, dumped the body, and drove away."

"Whereas before, he took the time to carry the body, pose it, and bury it. He spent more time with the women, now he's just dropping them and leaving. He doesn't feel the need to spend as much time with them after death. Why?"

"Escalating?" suggested Rossi. "His anger is growing, and burying the body doesn't satisfy his need to defile the body any more?"

"The question is, does he still need to spend as much time with the women while they're alive?" asked Emily. "If not, Anna Myers' time just got a lot shorter."

xXx

"Wow, an FBI agent," said Reid. "I can't believe our victim is an agent."

"Is it really that hard to believe?" asked Morgan. "You're an agent and you've been a victim more times than I can count."

"Shut up," said Spencer, rolling his eyes. He and Morgan were walking up to the back door of Anna Myers' parents' house. They rang the doorbell and within seconds, a short woman with brown hair answered the door.

"Yes?" she said, a little breathlessly. Her eyes were red.

"Mrs. Myers?" asked Morgan. The woman nodded. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, and this is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. We're from the FBI. We were wondering if you could tell us a few things about Anna?"

"Yes, of course," said Mrs. Myers, stepping back to let the agents in. Once they were inside, she shut the door and led them to the living room. A man sat on the couch, staring intently at a phone sitting on the table in front of him, as if his life force was concentrated in it.

"Jerry," said Mrs. Myers. The man jumped and looked up startled. "These men are from the FBI. Agents…I'm sorry, boys, I don't quite remember your names."

"It's okay, Mrs. Myers," said Derek. "Mr. Myers, we're SSAs Morgan and Reid."

The man's gray hair flashed in the little bit of sunlight as he stood and shook both men's hands. "Are you friends of Anna's?" he asked, green eyes looking almost pleadingly at them.

"Ah, no, actually," said Spencer. "We're here to assist the police in finding your daughter and captor."

"Oh," said Mr. Myers, sitting back down and glancing quickly at the phone before looking back up at Spencer and Derek. "So, what do you need to know?"

"Anna's car was found on the side of the road," said Derek. "Was driving down that road part of her normal routine?"

"Far from it," said Mrs. Myers with a small smile. "She's been trying to get healthier lately, eating better, working out. She's trying to stop eating so much fast food, but Jerry and I were going out with friends and Anna didn't want to cook, so she decided to go out for McDonald's." Her voice quavered and she let out a sob. "If we hadn't have gone out, she would never have been on the road, and she'd still be here, sitting in her room, waiting for her transfer!"

She was in hysterics now. Mr. Myers got up, put an arm around his wife, and led her back to the couch. Once settled, he glanced back at the phone, then at the agents.

"Why haven't they called?" he asked. "That's how it goes, isn't it? Someone kidnaps somebody, and then they call for a ransom? Why haven't they called?"

His eyes were pleading, begging the agents for an answer. Spencer shifted uncomfortably where he stood, unsure how to answer. Derek blinked and his shoulders dropped a fraction, a sign that he also did not know what to say. They looked at each other, unsure of how to answer Mr. Myers; should they tell Mr. Myers the real situation?

Finally Derek gave in.

"Mr. Myers, chances are you're not gonna get a call."

"What?" asked the man, looking up from the phone again. "Why? How else is whoever it is going to tell us what they want?"

Derek closed his eyes, wondering just how to phrase this. He was saved the trouble, surprisingly, by Spencer.

"Sir, this man, he's not a kidnapper. N-not in the traditional sense," said Spencer gently.

"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Myers thickly, wiping her eyes.

"This man," said Spencer, "he, uh, he doesn't want anything in return for Anna. He just wants…Anna."

"What for?" asked Mr. Myers, trying to comprehend. "She's doesn't have anything. All her money's tied up in an apartment in DC or in savings. She doesn't have a place of her own so she's staying here with us until her transfer. What could she give him?"

Derek was thinking quick how to put it before Reid went on about sexual sadists to parents of a missing daughter. However he didn't have to worry.

"Mr. Myers, we don't that yet," said Spencer. "What we do know is that the more you can tell us about your daughter, the better we'll be able to find her."

"Right, of course," said Mr. Myers, and he began to tell them all about Anna, from the time she was born until the night before.

Derek smiled in spite of the situation; Reid had grown since he joined the BAU. He knew now to think about the families of the victims and their feelings, not just the case. _Good job, kid,_ Derek thought.

An hour later, Morgan and Reid had called the sheriff to send a car to pick them up. Now the car was here and they were about to leave. Mrs. Myers had just finished telling them to stop by again anytime they wanted, when a thought occurred to Spencer.

"Mrs. Myers, you said that Anna was transferring departments. What department was that?"

"It's in Virginia somewhere, it sounded something like Quantico," she said, putting a finger to her chin, trying to remember. "And the name was a bunch of letters. Behavioral Attribute--no, no, that's not it. It's--"

"The Behavioral Analysis Unit?" finished Spencer, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Yes! Yes, that's the one," said Mrs. Myers. "Do you know it?"

Derek and Spencer nodded, then looked at each other, horror on their faces. One of their own had been taken.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Well, I think it's picking up the pace a bit. We're leading up to the real action and it'll come soon, I promise. Please review and let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

Chapter Four

"Mmm…where the hell am I?"

Anna opened her eyes and for a minute, everything was dark and fuzzy. When the haze lifted, she found herself looking at a gray wall, grimy with dirt and…

_Wait a second, is that blood? What the hell?_

"What happened?" she asked out loud. She remembered going to McDonald's, getting her burger, driving back, and then everything got a little blurry. She thought hard, and then she remembered headlights, her car jolting, and a wrench flying at her head.

"Oh yeah," she said, reaching her hand to her head, touching the spot where the wrench made contact. She flinched when her fingers brushed over the knot.

_So I've been abducted. Somehow I have a feeling that I should be a little more worried. Maybe it's because of the blow to my head. Well, it'll clear up eventually, and then I'll probably lose it completely. In the meantime, maybe I should try to figure out where I am._

Anna figured out how to work her hands again and pushed herself to a sitting position. As soon as she was upright, her head gave a horrible throb and she fought the urge to be sick.

"Ohh, my head," she groaned, leaning forward. "This is gonna be one hell of a headache."

Getting control of herself, she lifted her head slowly and panned the room. Gray cement walls, no windows, cement floor, and a large, heavy-looking door. Gray ceiling with a single light bulb. A pallet of blankets was set up in one corner, and a toilet sat in the other. A partition surrounded the toilet, separating it from the rest of the room. Anna laughed at the irony of privacy in abduction. Or she would have, if her head wasn't pounding.

She knew that she should get up and walk around the small room, try to find a way out, but her head was killing her. It hurt to sit up, and she wasn't in much of a hurry to see how it felt when she stood. Instead, she used her arms to slowly crawl to the pallet. As soon as she had pulled herself onto the blankets, she collapsed, unconscious.

xXx

Reid came jogging into the sheriff's office, Morgan striding behind him.

"Hey Spence," said JJ when she spotted the younger agent. "Did you and Morgan find out anything from Anna Myers' parents?"

"Yeah," said Reid, coming to a halt in front of her, slightly out of breath. "Anna Myers isn't just an FBI agent, she's a profiler."

JJ looked at him, stunned. She turned her head to Morgan, who nodded in confirmation. JJ turned around and yelled.

"Hotch!"

Hotch, who had been in the room that the BAU were using, came running in alarm. He had never heard JJ yell like that in a law enforcement office.

"What is it?" he asked, running to the group. Morgan spoke first.

"Anna Myers is a profiler."

"What?" asked Hotch.

"Well, not yet," said Reid. "She put in a transfer six months ago, and it went through. Before she was abducted, she was just waiting to move to Quantico. If she hadn't been taken, she'd be a profiler in a few weeks."

"Okay," said Hotch. "Reid and Morgan, go to the room and get ready to tell us everything you found out. Rossi and Prentiss are in there already. We'll meet you in a minute."

Morgan and Reid nodded, then turned and walked into the room. Hotch turned to JJ and knew she was thinking the same thing: A profiler was in trouble and they had just gotten a lot more involved.

xXx

Anna opened her eyes, and this time everything came into focus much faster. She cautiously raised her head a little and was happy to discover that it didn't hurt nearly as much. Slowly, she raised herself into a sitting position and looked around the room again. Still the same; gray and hopeless. Then something caught her eye.

On the floor a few feet away sat a covered container and bottle of water. Anna crawled over to the items to inspect them.

The water looked clear and clean. She checked the cap, and it had not been broken. Then she picked up the container and carefully pried off the lid. Inside was a small amount of green beans, mashed potatoes, and chicken.

Anna sat the food down and started to think. She had been abducted, not something a person who cared about her would normally do. So was it smart to eat food given to her by this man? There was a high probability that the food and water was poisoned. But she was so hungry; the last thing she had eaten was a few bites of her cheeseburger, and Anna had no idea how long ago that had been.

And then a thought occurred to her; in order for the food to get inside the room, the man had had to bring it in. He had inside the room, _near her_! He had been a few feet away from her! What had he done while she was out cold? Anna quickly checked herself, feeling her arms, legs, neck, and head. She gave a small sigh of relief when she didn't feel anything and nothing hurt, well besides her head.

_But I can't eat this food, it might be poisoned. I could die. Actually, he could come in and kill me at any moment. And I am hungry…_

Anna stared at the food and water for a moment, and then her stomach gave a loud grumble. Sighing, she opened the water bottle, and took a few sips. When she did not feel any different, she came to the conclusion that the water was either not poisoned or it would kill her later. Then she picked up the food and, using her fingers, began to eat.

xXx

"He isn't taking time to bury the bodies anymore," said Rossi.

Hotch had told the rest of the team about their fellow profiler, and they had all launched themselves headfirst into the investigation. Everything changes when it's one of your own in trouble.

"So he doesn't feel the need to manipulate his victims further after death," said Hotch. "What does that mean?"

"He's directing his rage at his next victim?" suggested Reid.

"Which would mean that he already knew who the next victim was before he killed Danielle Miller?" questioned Morgan.

"But how could he?" asked Rossi. "Did he already have Agent Myers picked out ahead of time? Then why didn't he just kill Danielle earlier, or skip her entirely and grab Anna instead? It just doesn't make sense."

"Actually, you both have a point," said Reid, his voice getting higher and faster as he explained. "It's a long-shot, but what if he killed Danielle Miller, and then on his way to bury her, he saw Anna Myers? He knew she would be his next victim, and he had to get to her before she got away. So he dumped Danielle's body without going through his normal routine, and then went after Anna."

"So you're saying that not burying the body might have been because he needed to get to his next victim?" asked Hotch.

"Yes," said Reid.

"So it might not be because he's escalating," said Prentiss.

"Not outright, no," said Reid.

"But if he didn't carry out part of his routine, then that means that he doesn't actually _need_ to do it," said Hotch.

"Which means that he may not need to keep his victim for three weeks," said Rossi, realizing what Hotch was saying. "If the UnSub finds another woman that he wants, he may kill Anna. She's not necessarily guaranteed the next three weeks."

XXx

Anna had long since finished her food. Now she sat on the pallet, slowly sipping her water, thinking what to do next.

She contemplated running at the door and trying to shove it over, but she had a feeling that would probably break her shoulder, so that became Plan Z. She looked around the room, trying to find any little crack in the floor and wall, a sign of weakness in the room she could exploit. There were no windows, so a break in the structure would be the best she could find.

As she scanned the room looking for anything that might help, she heard heavy footsteps outside the door. Anna froze, her heart beating a mile a minute. Her breathing became shallow and she recognized her fight or flight response trigger. She saw the large knob on the heavy door turn slowly. She almost wished the door would just hurry and swing open; this suspense was probably worse that what lay behind it.

The door creaked slowly open and Anna held her breath, waiting for the worst....


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: New chapter, a bit longer than previous chapters. Who's excited for Matthe Gray Gubler's episode tonight? I know I am! Anyways, please read and review. Enjoy!**

Chapter Five

Anna waited, not daring to breathe. Her eyes were glued to the door, she couldn't force herself to look away or shut her eyes.

First a booted foot appeared, then a leg, followed by the rest of the man. He had to be at least six feet tall. But not extremely heavy, maybe two hundred pounds. Anna's eyes looked up at his face. Rugged, in need of a shave. Dark brown hair and blue eyes. Eyes that were staring back at Anna.

The man moved forward and Anna found herself scooting back against the wall behind her. He walked toward her and she felt her back press against the wall. As he drew closer, she tried her hardest to melt right through the wall, but it didn't work. Her eyes were dilated in fear, sweat was breaking out on her face, and she was breathing quickly.

Finally the man came to a stop a foot in front of her. Anna sat there, paralyzed with fear. She could smell him. The cheap soap he used, the cheap cologne, and the cheap cigarettes he smoked.

He reached out a hand and touched her cheek gently. Anna flinched at the contact and tried to draw away but the man grabbed her face, preventing her from moving. He held her there, staring into her eyes. Anna stared back, trying to figure what the man wanted from her. His blue eyes had an almost warm glow to them, as if he were trying to convince himself of something he knew but his eyes just would not let him fully believe it.

The man let go of Anna's face and instead reached both his hands out to hold her cheeks. His touch was soft, but his hands were rough, calloused.

"Melanie…" the man said softly, almost in a whisper. It was the first time Anna had heard his voice; it sounded rough, like a pleasant-sounding voice that had been rubbed with sandpaper.

_Probably from the cigarettes,_ thought Anna.

"Melanie…" he said again.

"I-I'm not M-Melanie," stuttered Anna, wishing more than anything that the man would stop touching her.

"Yes you are, goofy," said the man, giving her a smile. Anna wondered how something could look so pleasant and deranged at the same time. "Your hair is brown like Melanie's, your eyes are brown like Melanie's, your nose is just like Melanie's, and your smile is just like Melanie's. You're Melanie. My Melanie."

"No…No, I'm not," said Anna. _So I'm dealing with a man who is substituting me for someone else…Great…_

"Melanie," said the man for the third time, stroking Anna's hair. This time she did pull away turning her head to the side. She knew immediately that was a mistake.

The man's hand, before gently stroking, now gripped her hair tightly, pulling. He jerked her head to face him. His eyes were now cold, his mouth a scowl.

"Melanie, why'd you turn away from me? What's wrong?" he asked, still not letting go of her hair. Anna gave no answer, only stared down at the ground, trying to press herself away from him. This only made the man angrier.

He let out a roar of rage and yanked at Anna's hair, pulling her down on her side. Then he grabber her forearm and slung her in the middle of the small room. Anna landed hard on side and had no time to react before he was on her again. He kicked her in the stomach and she twisted trying to get away. He used his heel to turn her back on her side and aimed another kick at her stomach. It made contact, knocking the wind out of her. She had no time to recover when the boot made its way into her stomach for a third time. She moved her arms to protect herself, wrapping them tightly around her middle. One more kick, which was shielded by her forearms, and then he relented.

Anna managed to twist to her hand and knees and desperately made for the pallet, not knowing where else to go. She was stopped by the man's hand on her hair again, pulling her back. Anna let out a cry as his hand made contact with her face with a resounding smack. Then he let her go.

Anna crawled as quickly as she could back to the pallet and curled up, trying to protect herself from another onslaught. She heard the heavy bootsteps and held her breath, but then she heard the door open, close, and then silence. Anna emptied her lungs and allowed herself to breathe normally. And then the pain came.

She tried to uncurl herself from the ball she had made, but it hurt too much to move. So she stayed still, focusing on her breathing. She had to stay strong. She was going to make it out of this, she just had to stay strong.

She couldn't hold back anymore, no matter how hard she tried. Anna gave a small sob, breaking the dam, followed by larger sobs. In spite of herself, Anna felt her eyes sting and her vision blurred as hot tears began to stream down her cheeks. She huddled herself tighter, pulling her knees closer to her chest, letting the tears flow.

xXx

The agents of the BAU were once again gathered around a table, staring at a corkboard covered with grotesque photos of dead women, trying to figure out their killer.

"Since his victims all look alike, I think it's safe to say that he's replacing someone with them," said Emily. "Trying to kill the same person over and over again."

"Yes," agreed Hotch. "The question is who is he trying to kill?"

"I'll have Garcia look and see if there have been any similar murders before these three," said Morgan, pulling out his cell phone. He hit the speed dial and then put it on speaker. It rang twice and then a perky voice answered.

"Tech Genius Supreme, whaddayawant?"

"Hey, you're on speaker Baby Girl, behave," said Morgan.

"Oh damn," muttered Garcia. "What do you need, Hot Stuff?"

Morgan smiled. "I need you to look for cases similar to these in the past three years within fifty miles."

They heard keys tapping and Garcia mumbling under her breath, searching diligently. After a minute, she returned to the conversation.

"Sorry, darlings, I got nothing," she said. "As far as I can tell, these are the first murders of their kind in the area."

"Okay," said Reid. He looked up at the other agents. "If he just started killing, then the stressor must not have happened very long ago. That could mean that the woman he's killing over and over again has dierect contact with him now, like a girlfriend that moved in with him, or her death could have triggered his behavior." He turned back down to the phone. "Uh, Garcia, can you look and see if there've been any women who look similar to the victims that died recently? Anywhere within the last year?"

"Can do, Junior Genius, but it'll take some time," said the analysis. "Garcia out."

Morgan grinned as he put his phone away.

"Okay team," said Hotch, standing up, "we've had a long day and I don't think we can get much more done. Let's head back to the hotel and get some rest."

The team murmured their agreement and left the sheriff's department. They piled into the three black rental SUVs, two to a vehicle, and left for the hotel.

_Hotel wasn't quite the right word for it_, thought Reid._ Bed and breakfast, more like. _It was out in the middle of nowhere (_the entire town of Franklinton was, to be honest_). It was a fairly large building, painted a nice sunny yellow. Each room had a full bed, a couch and table, a desk, high-speed internet, and a bathroom. To Reid, it was the picture of Southern Hospitality.

The team wished the owners and each other goodnight, then went to their respective rooms.

Reid sat his messenger bag on the desk, showered quickly, changed into his pajamas (sweatpants and a t-shirt), and hopped into bed. He sunk into the mattress, pulled the covers over his head, and relaxed. He had just dozed off when his cell phone went off. Groaning, he reached a hand out and groped around until he found it. Hitting the answer button, he brought it to his ear, trying unsuccessfully to hold back a yawn.

"Sp-Spencer Reid," he answered, his eyes still closed.

"A-agent Reid?" said the female voice on the other end of the phone. "This is Lorry Myers. Anna Myers' mother."

"Oh, right," said Reid, opening his eyes and sitting up. "C-can I help you with something, Mrs. Myers?" he asked. It concerned him a little that she was calling him this late. He glanced at the clock--11:48. _Wow, it _is_ late._

"Well, you gave me your number and said to call if something came to us," said Mrs. Myers, sounding anxious. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"No, no, it's fine," assured Reid, putting on his glasses and running a hand through his mussed-up hair. "Did you think of anything that could help?"

"Well, I was just sitting in Anna's room, and I decided to open her nightstand. I didn't mean to go snooping into her stuff!" said Mrs. Myers, as if trying to make him understand that she wasn't trying to intrude on her daughter's life. "I-I just opened the top drawer, and I found this little book. It's her diary."

"Mm-hmm," said Reid, staring at the floor, scratching his head.

"You said you needed to know about her…Victimology, I think you called it? Anyway, Anna's a rather reserved girl. She doesn't talk to many people about her problems. Actually, people are always telling her about theirs, wanting advice or just someone to listen to them. Instead, Anna writes in her diary. It probably knows more about her than I do. I thought it might help if you had it."

"Uh, yeah," said Reid, springing up and running to the bathroom where his contacts were. "It would be a big help if I could see it. Do, uh, do you mind if I came over? Now?"

"No, of course not," said Mrs. Myers. "It's not like we're going to get any sleep. Do you need anything?"

"Uh, yes," said Reid, pulling on his mismatched socks. "A pot coffee would be nice."

"Alright, Agent Reid," said Mrs. Myers. "We'll see you in a bit. Thank you."

"No, thank you," said Reid. He hung the phone up, quickly changed clothes, and grabbed the keys to the SUV. He texted Morgan where he was going as he walked down the stairs and out the door.

Thirty minutes later, after a few wrong turns (_I didn't even know there _was_ a place where GPS couldn't pick up signal_) Reid finally arrived at the Myers' house. He walked up the back stairs and knocked on the door, which was immediately answered by Mrs. Myers.

"Sorry, Agent Reid," she said, seeing his startled expression at the door flying open. "I couldn't sleep and I don't know what to do with myself, so I thought I'd wait for you."

"It's no problem, Mrs. Myers," assured Reid. "How are you holding up?" he asked, stepping inside the house.

"I don't know," she said truthfully. "I don't really know what to do. If it was for ransom, then right now I'd be getting together every last cent I had. But, since you said there wouldn't be a ransom, I don't know what to do." She looked teary-eyed for a moment, but then seemed to gather her composure again. "You asked for coffee. Would you like some now?"

"Uh, yes, please," answered Reid. He was glad she wasn't crying; he wouldn't have any idea what to do.

Reid followed Mrs. Myers to the kitchen, just off the foyer. She pulled out a little blue mug and poured coffee into it from the pot on the maker. Then she grabbed the creamer and poured a bit in. Next came the sugar.

"Just tell me when, dear," she said, turning the cylinder over and letting the granules fall. She waited for him to tell her to stop, but after a bit, she turned around to see if he was even still there. He was, watching the sugar pour. Eventually, she heard the stuttered "Uh, w-when."

Smiling, she handed Reid his coffee. "Anna loves coffee, too, but she prefers more creamer than sugar." Spencer gave her a small smile, then took a long drink. He closed his eyes, welcoming his friend, the caffeine jolt.

"Thank you, Mrs. Myers," he said. "Now, where's your daughter's diary?"

"In her room, right this way," said Mrs. Myers, leading him down the hall. "I left it on her bed. It seems like theft to take it out of her room." Reid simply nodded, following her into the room.

He was almost taken aback by the amount of green surrounding him. The walls were a deep, rich green. The bedspread and curtains were a lighter green. The many accessories around the room were differing shades of green.

Spencer's mind started to instantly profile. _Green: a calming, soothing color. Invokes feeling os tranquility. Green is said to improve reading ability. Judging by the large bookcase completely filled, I'm assuming this may be right._

"Yes, Anna loves green," said Mrs. Myers, chuckling a little. She turned and pointed to the bed. "There's her diary."

Reid walked to the bed and picked up the little book. The cover was green (_of course_) with white flowers. His hands simply held the little book, letting his fingers run over he smooth cover. He felt something akin to…trepidation.

_This is an invasion of someone's privacy_, he thought._ Sure, I've gone through other people's things before. UnSubs journals and letters, creepy people's houses. But this is a victim, an innocent. This is going through someone's stuff who has done nothing wrong. When Anna Myers wrote this, she had no idea that someone would actually be reading it. This just feels so…weird. _

Spencer stared at the diary for a little longer, trying to come to terms with reading words never meant for prying eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Sorry it took a bit. I'm on Spring Break, and it's so distracting do nothing. Anyway, this chapter's longer than the previous, and I'm working into thickening the plot. Read, enjoy, and review!**

Chapter Six

Morgan woke up the next morning, not to his alarm, but to banging on the door.

"Morgan!" someone yelled outside, continuing to bang on the door.

Morgan rolled out of bed sleepily and drug his feet to the door. Grabbing the handle, he swung it open, putting on his best sleepy scowl.

"Hotch, man, do you know what time it is? What the hell do you want?"

"Reid's missing," said Hotch simply. Morgan's stomach tightened unpleasantly.

_What the hell has Pretty Boy gotten himself into now? We haven't even been on this case a full day, and we were all safe in the hotel for God's sake!_

"How do you know he's not just in the shower or downstairs getting breakfast?" he asked, trying to think of every possibility.

"We've checked downstairs, we've had the owners open the door to his room, and one of the SUVs is missing," said Hotch. "Have you heard anything from him?"

"No, I haven't talked to him since last night when we went to our rooms."

"Maybe he called you, or sent you a text?"

"No, Hotch, my phone hasn't gone off all night--"

Right at that moment, Morgan's phone went off. He crossed the room to check it and Hotch stepped inside.

"What is it?" asked Hotch.

"Text," said Morgan. "From Reid. He says he went to the Myers' house last night. I guess there wasn't any signal here until right now."

"Why would he go to the Myers'?" asked Hotch.

"No idea," said Morgan. "Here, let me call him." He navigated to his contact list, found Reid's cell number, and hit the call button. The two men were tense as it rang for a moment, and then--

"Reid."

"Reid, man," said Morgan, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Where the hell are you?"

"At the Myers', didn't you get my text?" asked Reid, speaking slightly faster than normal.

"Not until just now," answered Morgan. "Why are you over there?"

"Mrs. Myers called me last night," said Reid quickly. "She found her daughter's diary last night and thought it might help, so she called me. I came over, and I've been reading through it, trying to learn more about her."

"When did you go to sleep, man?" asked Morgan.

"Uh, I didn't, actually," said Reid. "I've just had six cups of coffee in as many hours."

Morgan could actually _hear_ his friend quivering with jitters on the other end. "Reid," he sighed, exasperated. "You need sleep. Did you take one of the SUVs?"

"Yeah, sorry, I had to get here. No taxis out in the middle of nowhere."

"Okay, Reid. I'll meet you over there in a while. I'll get Hotch or someone to drop me off."

"Alright, later," said Reid quickly, promptly hanging up.

"Man, that kid needs to switch to decaf," said Morgan, closing his phone. He looked up at Hotch, who was waiting for an explanation.

"Well?" asked the unit chief.

"He went to read Anna Myers' diary," said Morgan. "He hasn't slept all night. Overdoing the coffee, though. Could I catch a ride over there later, since Reid jacked our SUV?"

xXx

Anna woke up abruptly. She had a moment of serenity, but then remembered with a heavy heart where she was. She tentatively stretched her limbs, feeling the stiffness. She had slept in a little ball all night, and found it hard to uncurl. Hesitantly she tested the muscles in her stomach; they were sore, but nothing seemed to be broken or bleeding internally. It felt more like she had gone to the gym for an over-zealous workout.

_Great,_ she thought wryly, _if I had known all I had to do to get in shape was get the crap beat out of me, I would have been abducted _waaaay_ sooner._

Slowly, Anna made her way to her feet. Waiting until she was steady, she made slow progress to the toilet in the corner of the room. When she was finished, not knowing were else to go, she went back to the pallet and sat down.

_Okay, so there's a nutcase somewhere on the other side of that door that believes I'm someone named Melanie. He obviously has some sort of mental problem or distress, trying to replace this woman with me. And by the look of this place, especially the blood, I am _not_ the first person he's kept in here. Unfortunately, the blood also doesn't really give me much hope for getting out of here, but I'm not gonna think about that right now._

_He's suffering under the delusion that I am Melanie, and I don't really want to think about what happened to the original Melanie. I don't really know what to do to get myself out of this situation. I could give in and play into his fantasy, become Melanie, but if I do that, I might be walking straight into my death. _She sighed._ I guess all I can do for now is try not to make him mad and hope someone figures out where I am._

Morgan walked up the Myers' driveway and to the backdoor, where Mr. Myers let him in.

"Good to see you," said Mr. Myers, shaking Derek's hand.

"How're you holding up, Mr. Myers?" Derek asked; the man's face was very pale, and the dark circles under his eyes said he hadn't slept all night.

"Okay, maybe, I guess?" said Mr. Myers. "I'm not sure. I'm coming to terms with it a little more now, I think. At least now I'm not preoccupied with waiting for a ransom…Do you think you'll get her back?" His eyes were still pleading.

Derek looked at the man, desperately wishing he could tell the man what he wanted to hear.

"We're doing everything we can, Mr. Myers," said Derek. _Man, I wish I could say something less lame_.

Mr. Myers seemed to accept this and led Derek into the kitchen.

"Agent Morgan, how are you?" asked Mrs. Myers upon seeing him. She hurried over from the stove, wiping her hands on her apron.

"I'm fine, ma'am," answered Derek, shaking her offered hand. "How are you?"

"Okay, I suppose." She heaved a sigh. "I'm just trying to make it from day to day."

"That's all you can do sometimes," said Derek. He sniffed the air as a wonderful scent filled his nose. "Mmm, something smells good."

"Oh, that would be me," said Mrs. Myers, hurrying back over to the stove. "I'm making breakfast for your friend, Dr. Reid. It's nice to have someone to actually cook for; all Jerry ever has is a bowl of cereal and Anna cooks her own food. Cooking keeps me busy, takes my mind off things." Her ears perked up at something only she seemed to hear. "Oh, coffee's done!"

She ran to the coffee maker and poured a mug. She added creamer and milk, then up-ended the sugar canister and let it flow. After about five seconds she set it down, and stirred the coffee quickly.

"Your friend really loves his coffee," she said to Morgan. "And his sugar."

"Yeah, that sounds like Reid," said Morgan, smiling a little.

"Dr. Reid's back here, follow me," said Mrs. Myers. She set off down the hallway, Morgan behind her.

"Here you are, dear," she said, opening a slightly cracked door. Morgan stepped inside and was taken aback for a few seconds.

"I had the same reaction," said a voice from the corner of the room. "Good morning, Morgan."

Spencer was sitting at a desk in the corner, looking to his left at Derek.

"There's so much green in here," said Morgan, looking around. _Feels like I'm in Ireland._

"Here you are, dear," said Mrs. Myers, handing Reid the coffee cup. He accepted it gratefully.

"Thank you," he said, taking a gulp.

"Of course, dear," said the woman. "Your breakfast is almost ready. I'll bring it to you when it's done. Agent Morgan, would you like a plate, too?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am," said Morgan, giving her a smile. She hurried back to the kitchen, leaving the agents in her daughter's room.

"So…green?" asked Morgan, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, it's her favorite color," said Reid, going back to the girl's diary.

"Ya know, that diary doesn't look that big," Morgan pointed out. "Why's it taken you all night to read it?"

"I can read twenty-thousand words per minute; doesn't mean I _have_ to," said Reid. "I've been reading and rereading it all night."

"Haven't you memorized it already?" asked Morgan.

"That's not the point, Morgan," said Reid indignantly, turning back to the diary. Derek smiled when he heard the genius mumble that sounded like a "yes".

"Okay, kid, so what have you learned from that diary?" he asked.

Reid turned around, and Morgan was surprised to see that he looked genuinely excited.

"Her name is Anna Lee Myers, born October twenty-second, 1983. Her birthstone is opal and pink tourmaline, but she prefers opal because she hates pink. She used to be a teacher and loves children. Her favorite time in history is Medieval England, and she prefers Catherine of Aragon to Anne Boleyn. She loves coffee, and can't live without it. She apparently devotes much of her writing to planning for the Zombie Apocalypse; she's mapped out locations that would be affected faster then others, safe zones, methods for survival, how to get food and clean water--"

"Woah, you're really into this, aren't you?" said Morgan, smiling at Reid's enthusiasm. "But really zombies?"

"Well, it might not be a likely possibility, but it still doesn't hurt to plan," said Reid, matter-of-factly.

"Wait a minute, have _you_ planned for this?" asked Morgan.

"Yes," answered Reid promptly. "Haven't you?"

"No, why would I?"

"Like I said, never hurts to plan."

"Plan for something that has no chance of happening? No way."

"Actually," said Reid, holding up his finger, putting on his lecture face, "the likelyhood of a virus of some sort infecting the population--"

"Hold it, Reid," said Morgan, heading the young man off before he could go on with facts and statistics about the undead. "Did you find anything useful to the case?"

Reid halted his prattling, his face falling. "No, sorry."

Morgan sighed. "That's okay, kid. Do you think there's _anything_ in there that might help?"

"I don't know, there could be," said Reid, eyebrows raised apologetically. "I may need to keep looking through here."

"Okay, you do that," said Morgan. "I need to call Hotch." Reid nodded and turned back to the diary. Morgan walked into the hallway and found his way to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door.

He pulled out his phone and walked around until he found a small signal; two bars, but he'd take what he could get. He found Hotch's number on speed dial and called. A few rings later, Hotch answered.

"Hotchner."

"Hey, Hotch. It's Morgan."

"Did you find out anything?"

"Yeah, there might actually be someone out there for Reid after all," said Morgan, chuckling. Then he became serious again. "But nothing that would help on the case. Reid's been up all night going over Anna Myers' diary, but he didn't find anything. He's still determined to find anything, though. He's still looking, though. I don't think he's gonna give up until he's found something."

"Stay with him for now, we don't have much more over here anyway."

"Alright." He hung up his phone and let himself out of the bathroom.

Derek walked back into Anna's bedroom just in time for Mrs. Myers to bring his and Reid's breakfast.

"Here you are, dears," she said. She set a plate down on the desk in front of Reid, and then handed one to Derek. It was loaded with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and sausage. Derek's mouth watered at the sight.

"Thank you, Mrs. Myers, this looks great!" he said, giving her a smile. Mrs. Myers grinned back.

"Yeah, this smells wonderful," concurred Reid.

"Thank you, boys," said Mrs. Myers. "You eat up; I've got more in the kitchen if you want it. Especially you, Dr. Reid; you are far too thin."

As Mrs. Myers left, Morgan grinned at Reid's embarrassed expression. He always hated it when someone paid him too much attention or fussed over him.

They both dug into their food, Morgan looking around the room as Reid reread the diary for the umpteenth time.

xXx

JJ turned to Hotch when the man hung up the phone.

"Was that Morgan?" she asked. "Is Reid where he said he was?" JJ always worried about Reid, especially after Hankel.

"Yes, he's at the Myers'. Morgan says Reid couldn't find anything on Anna's diary, but he's still looking," said Hotch.

"Anything else?" JJ asked.

"Uh, yes," said Hotch, a smile appearing briefly. "He said that from he diary, there might actually be someone out there for Reid." JJ smiled and rolled her eyes. They started walking, headed for the room that temporarily housed their team. Inside were Prentiss and Rossi.

"Morgan said Reid hasn't found anything," said Hotch. "So where do we go from here?"

"I don't think we're going to find out any more than we already know," said Emily. "I say we go ahead and put a profile together, then give it to the police."

"I agree with Emily," said Rossi. "Let's put everything together and make a profile."

"Okay, I'll call Morgan and Reid," said Hotch. "We'll need them."

xXx

"Hey kid, let's pack it up," said Morgan returning to the bedroom. "Hotch just called and he wants us back at the department to help with the profile."

"You go ahead," said Reid, not looking up from the diary.

"What?"

"You heard me, Morgan. You go ahead. I want to stay here, keep looking at this diary."

"Reid, you've been over that thing probably hundreds of times--"

"Eight-hundred and seventy-three--"

"Exactly. What more can you get from it?"

"I'm not sure, but I just feel like there's something here…"

"Okay, you can stay here, but if Hotch gets mad, it's your skinny ass on the line."

"Fine. Now go ahead. Call me if you need me for the profile."

"Alright, kid. See you later."

"Later. Oh, and Morgan?"

"Yeah?" Morgan said from the door.

"Can you have someone pick you up? I might need the SUV."

Morgan heaved a sigh and walked out, muttering under his breath as he pulled out his phone to call in a ride.

xXx

Anna had been sitting on the pallet, for how long she couldn't tell. She had gone through the name of every person in her class in every grade, every subject she had taken in school, and was now on her way to reexamining every detail she could remember from every case file she had had in While Collar. However, the creek of a door interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up expectantly, her stomach growling. _Surely it's time for lunch or dinner…whatever! I need food!_

The man entered slowly, and the look on his face made Anna realize that food was the last thing she should be worrying about.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. Spring break got the best of me; there's just something appealing about a week doing nothing at home. Anyway, here's the next chapter, hope everyone likes it. Enjoy! Review!**

Chapter Seven

The officers had filed into the room a few minutes earlier and were now seated, waiting for the show to begin.

"Still there, kid?" asked the bald agent, seemingly talking to no one. The officers thought maybe the man might not be all there until they heard a squealed "Yeah" that appeared to come from nowhere. It took a moment before they realized that the voice was coming from a cell phone placed on the table.

"Okay, Hotch, Reid's still on the line," said Morgan, turning to the unit chief. Hotch nodded, the turned to the officers.

"We're here to give you a profile on the UnSub, or Unknown Subject," he said.

"You're looking for a white male," said Prentiss, stepping forward. "he is probably between the age of twenty-five and forty."

"He dumped the last three women in secluded areas," said Morgan. "That means he knows the area well. He's probably from here."

"All four women's vehicles were found by the side of a back road," said the voice on the phone, Reid. "All four are small, two-door cars. Not SUVs or trucks. These small cars are light and easier to wreck. This, and the locations where the cars were found; isolated, not heavily trafficked roads, and the damage done to the back ends, leads us to believe that our UnSub is rear-ending these women to get them to pull over so he can abduct them.

"The fact that he has to do this suggests that he has no confidence, or is in some other way unable to attract these women. He's not like Ted Bundy,, he can't charm these women into his vehicle," concluded Reid, momentarily reminding himself of his former mentor.

"These women's blouses and bottoms are torn, but there's no sexual assault," said Rossi. "This means he's probably impotent and can't perform the actual act. He then becomes enraged and takes his anger out on the woman."

"Since these women all look similar to one another, we believe that he is abducting them to replace another woman in his life," said Hotch. "This woman has insulted him, probably sexually. She then either left shortly after this, or he killed her. We have out technical analyst looking for women who resemble our victims who was killed within the last five years. Now the UnSub is taking women who resemble this woman, trying to kill her over and over again."

"The kind of damage done to the cars could only be caused by something big," said Emily. "Like a truck. It's probably over-sized to overcompensate for his feelings of inadequacy. "

"Since the accidents and abductions take place at night, and the bodies are dumped in the early morning, it's likely that our UnSub has a job," said Reid over the phone. "This job would take up a lot of his day, from about seven or eight in the morning to around five or six in the evening. This leaves him limited time to hunt, and to spend with his victim.

"His job is probably menial, something that makes him feel emasculated, and something that doesn't allow him direct communication with people, or at least women. It's yet another thing he feels he needs to compensate for."

"And lastly," said Hotch, "he may be losing control. With his last victim, Danielle Miller, he didn't take the time to bury her, which is something that he always did before. Instead, he dumped her body, and then immediately abducted his next victim, Anna Myers."

"This straying from his usual pattern could mean he's devolving," said Rossi. "Which means Anna may not have as much time as the other victims."

The officers all nodded, then filed out.

xXx

"Oka, Morgan, Prentiss, and Dave, I want you to go out and canvas the neighborhood with the officers. JJ and I will stay here and--"

Hotch was cut off by the ring of a cell phone.

All eyes on Morgan, he pulled out his phone and checked the caller ID.

"It's Reid," he said, surprised. Reid had just hung up a few minutes earlier, when the profile was finished. He hit the answer button.

"Morgan."

"Hey, is JJ there?" asked Reid. He sounded panicked.

"Yeah, she's right here," answered Morgan, concerned. "What's up?"

"Put me on speaker."

Morgan hit the button. "Okay kid, you're on."

"JJ, I need help. Th-there's a mob of reporters and news people here. They're all out in the Myers' yard and driveway, and they, uh, they won't stop beating on the doors and windows. The Myers' are upset, they don't know what's going on. What, uh, what should I do?"

"Hold on, Spence," said JJ. "I'll be over there in a few minutes--"

"Dr. Reid!" came a voice on the other end of the phone.

"Mrs. Myers, is everything alright?" called Reid. They heard him shuffling around, then, "Uh, guys, I'll get back to you." And then he ran off, leaving the team waiting.

Spencer Reid had jumped up from Anna's desk at Mrs. Myers' call. He ran to the dining room to look out the window facing the front lawn. However, he could not see out for the many bodies and cameras pressed against the glass.

Reid reacted quickly, closing the blinds and curtains, then ran back to Anna's room, said something to the team, then hung up the phone.

He raced back into the dining room, only to see Mr. Myers, looking very upset, holding Mrs. Myers, who was shaking, very pale, and on the verge of tears.

"Why are they here?" asked Mr. Myers. "Why can't they just leave us alone?"

"Can't they see that we're worried about out daughter?" asked Mrs. Myers, her voice quivering. "We don't want to give them a story, we just want our daughter back!"

Spencer had had enough. He turned on his heel, walked to the front door, and threw it open. Turning to face the press, he let his anger fly.

"May I have your attention," he yelled, demanding more than asking. "My name is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. The Myers' twenty-eight year old daughter has gone missing. However, that does not give you the right to come onto their property, invade their privacy, and harass them! The FBI has been called in to help, and we will be giving a formal press conference later. Not now, and not here. So clear off before I arrest you all. Thank you."

He turned, went back inside, and slammed the door. The reporters, recovering from the abrupt tongue-lashing, slowly began to pack up and leave.

"Thank you, Dr. Reid," said Mrs. Myers, still shaking.

The anger Reid had felt earlier vanished, replaced with sympathy for the family.

"They shouldn't have been here," he said, his voice softer now. "This is your time of worry; they shouldn't be intruding. They should respect your privacy."

Mrs. Myers gave him a watery smile and patted his hand.

"How about some lunch?" she asked, trying to return her voice to normal and be strong. "You look like you've missed more than a few meals."

Spencer, remembering her comfort in cooking, nodded.

"I'll be in Anna's room, going over her diary again," he said. Mr. and Mrs. Myers both nodded, and Spencer turned and made his way back through the house.

"When he stepped into his bedroom, he heard his phone vibrating around on the desk. He grabbed it quickly and answered.

"Reid."

"Reid, what the hell happened?" It was Morgan.

"The reporters were literally trying to press their way into the house. The Myers' were scared. I ran outside and told the reporters to leave and that we would have a press conference later."

"Reid." _Oh man, Hotch. I didn't know I was on speaker!_ "You weren't authorized to announce that. We aren't planning a press conference."

"I know, Hotch," said Reid pleadingly. "But they were horrible and I didn't know any other way to get them to leave." He heard a sigh on the other end.

"It's okay, Reid," said JJ. "I'll set up a conference. It was only a matter of time until the press found out, anyway, Hotch."

"Thanks, JJ," said Reid.

"Are you coming back, Reid?" asked Morgan.

"No, there's something here, I just have to find it. I just have to keep looking."

"Alright. I'll meet you later, kid."

"Alright. Later." They both hung up.

xXx

Anna tried to press herself into the wall.

The man had come back, and was now staring at her with a maniac look. There was something about his leer that made Anna shiver. There was something wrong. More wrong than being abducted at wrench-point and held in a concrete room.

He advanced toward Anna, smiling leeringly at her.

"Melanie," he crooned. "Melanie."

"I-I'm not Melanie," whispered Anna.

"Of course you are," he said, stopping in front of her. He reached his hand out to touch her hair and she flinched. The man saw it, and a frown formed on his face, but he let it go.

"Come here, Melanie," he said, grabbing her. She yelped as he pushed her roughly down on the pallet. He took advantage of her distraction and clamped his mouth down on hers. She tried o smack him away, but he held her hand tightly over her head. Anna had the impression that he learned to kiss (and she used the term "kiss' loosely) from a vacuum cleaner.

He finally detached his mouth from hers and moved on to her neck. She twisted and squirmed to free herself, but he was too strong. She whimpered when she felt him grind against her.

However, something was not right. He was becoming angry. He was now biting her, and he reached a hand down to her shirt. Instead of lifting it as Anna had expected, he ripped it. He then followed suit and pulled her pants off, then ripped her underwear.

Anna was crying now, thinking of the inevitable, when she felt the man lift off of her. He was now standing over her, eyes burning with fury. Before she knew what had happened, he grabbed her hair.

"You little bitch!" he shouted, punching her right in the face. Her eye watered with pain.

"How dare you!" he screamed, punching her exposed stomach. Then he threw her bodily against the wall. Anna felt her head make contact and everything went fuzzy.

The man was on her again, punching and kicking and screaming. He kicked her torso until she thought her ribs would break, then he turned her over and beat her back. When his feet made contact with the middle of her spine, it knocked the wind out of her. She gave up trying to defend herself, letting him beat and shout at her to his content.

She heard snippets of sentences and phrases like "slut", "whore", "show you good enough", and "never say no to me". Just when she was willing herself to black out, the man suddenly stopped.

Afraid to open her eyes, Anna cowered on the floor until she heard the door open and the man leave.

Slowly, she made her way back to the pallet, cringing with every move.

Anna finally reached the make-shift bed and collapsed. She curled around herself and pulled the blanket over her, trying to cover her exposed body. Burying her head in the blanket, she cried until she fell asleep, exhausted.

xXx

After hours of searching, it was night out, and the officers and agents had been called back to the station. After a brief report, the officers had gone home. The agents, however, remained.

"Call Reid," said Hotch. "We can fill him in at the same time."

Morgan took out his phone and dialed the number.

"Reid."

"You're on speaker, kid," said Morgan.

"We're going to fill you in on what happened today," said Hotch.

"Okay, go."

"We all canvassed the neighborhoods," said Emily. "Since it's so rural out here, not many people live in one place."

"We shared the profile with the citizens," said Rossi. "We got quite a few 'sounds like my neighbor' reactions, but nothing that actually led to anything."

"So basically, you've got nothing?" asked Reid.

"Nope," confirmed Morgan. "Find anything in the diary yet?"

"No," sighed Reid. "But I ju--"

" 'Just know there's something,'" said Morgan. "We know kid."

"Sorry," muttered Reid. They could almost hear him blushing over the phone.

"Oh, Spence," JJ spoke up, to break the awkward silence. "I set up a press conference for tomorrow at the Sheriff's Office. I think it would be helpful if the Myers' came and spoke. Could you ask them?"

"Sure," said Reid.

"Okay," said Hotch. "We're heading back to the hotel. We'll meet you there, Reid."

"Okay," said Reid, pushing the chair back.

"Dr. Reid?"

Mrs. Myers stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around her middle, looking nervous.

"Mrs. Myers?"

"Dear, you've been up all night," she said. "You really shouldn't be driving this late. Why don't you stay here for the night? I'll make you dinner, and you can stay in Anna's room...?"

Reid took a moment to look at the woman's face, her look of pleading. Then he turned back to the phone.

"Hey, guys," he said, "I'll, uh, I'll see you tomorrow. I think I'm going to stay here for the night."

There was a brief pause on the other end, then Hotch's voice crackled out.

"Alright, Reid. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, bye," said Reid, closing his phone.

Mrs. Myers smiled.

"Tonight I'm making hamburger steak," she said. "It'll be ready soon. If you want, you can take a shower after dinner, and I'll give you some of Jerry's clothes while I wash yours."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Reid, smiling. Mrs. Myers smiled back and walked off to the kitchen.

Reid turned back to Anna's diary, smiling. In spite of the situation, Spencer couldn't help but be excited for what would probably be his first actual home-cooked meal in ages.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Just a little insight into what Reid's thinking. He's getting ready to spring into action, either in the next chapter or the one after. Ignore my pseudo-profiling on linguistics and handwriting analysis; I got most of the information off Google, but I can't vouch for the credibility. Anyways, read and review, please! Oh, and Happy Easter! Enjoy!**

Chapter Eight

An hour after he had hung up with Hotch, there was a knock on the door. Spencer looked up and saw Mr. Myers standing in the doorway.

"Time for dinner, Dr. Reid," he said. "Wash up and come to the table."

"Yes, sir," said Spencer, rising from the desk. It hit him how familial this scene sounded, but he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Reid washed his hands at the bathroom sink, then walked to the dining room. He was glad to see that no reporters were lingering outside the family's bay window.

"Have a seat, Dr. Reid," said Mr. Myers. Spencer smiled and sat down.

"Here you are, Dr. Reid," said Mrs. Myers, hurrying towards him with a plate loaded with food. She set the plate down and Spencer's eyes widened at the spread.

"I'm not sure what you like, so I just gave you a bit of everything," said Mrs. Myers. "Hamburger steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, and carrots. Do you want ketchup?"

"Uh, for--?"

"For your hamburger, dear."

"Oh, yes, please," said Reid, smiling. Mrs. Myers took the ketchup bottle out of the cabinet and set it in front of him. Then she returned to the kitchen to get plates for Mr. Myers and herself.

When everyone was at the table, Mr. Myers started the conversation.

"So, Dr. Reid, what exactly is it you do in the FBI?" he asked.

"I study human behavior," said Spencer, in between mouthfuls. "My specialty is linguistics and geographical profiles."

"Linguistics?" asked Mrs. Myers. "How does that help?"

"By listening to someone talk, I can pretty much nail down where they're from," said Spencer.

"Like an accent?" asked Mr. Myers. "Well, you'd have a hard time figuring out our Anna. She doesn't have much of an accent."

"Actually, it's not all about the accent," said Spencer. "It has more to do with terms and phrases. For example, while Anna may not have an accent, in her diary she uses the phrase 'over yonder'. 'Yonder' is typically a term used in the southeast United States. People from anywhere else in the U.S. would usually just say 'over there'."

"Really?" said Mr. Myers.

"Yes, and there are other terms that are relative to North Carolina only," said Spencer. "I can also tell people's emotions through their writing."

"Well, can't anyone do that?" Mr. Myers asked. "I mean, if someone writes about being happy, they're happy, right?"

"Not all the time," replied Spencer. "I judge more by the way people write rather than what they write. The way a person's letters lean is an indication of how they feel. To the right is a sign of happiness. The longer the bar on a letter 'T' with an upward slant, the more likely it is that the person is happy, hopeful, and looking forward to life.

"If something is written in scribbles or looks like it was written in a hurry, it might actually have been written in a hurry. Or it means the person could have been so excited that they were thinking faster than their hand could write, and it turned into a mess. Or when someone's pen rips right through the paper, it means that they are experiencing a powerful emotion."

"Wow, all that just from someone's handwriting?"

"And typing," added Spencer.

"That is impressive," said Mr. Myers.

"Mmhm," said Spencer, noncommittally. He shoveled more hamburger and mashed potatoes into his mouth. "This is really good, Mrs. Myers."

"Thank you, dear," she replied, smiling.

After dinner, Reid was ushered into the bathroom, shown where everything was, and left alone.

Normally, he would have taken a bath, but since he was in someone else's home, he opted for a shower.

He turned the water to boiling, shed his clothes, and hopped in. After he adjusted to the temperature, Spencer looked around for something to wash with. There was a bar of soap, and no offense to the Myers', but as a rule he did not use other people's soap. Instead, he found a bottle of body wash.

_Blueberry?_ he thought. _Is there anything else? Bubblegum? Nevermind, I'll stick with the blueberry._

He sudsed up and washed off, the searched for shampoo.

_Orange flower blossom? Well, it's better than 'Petal Garden' I guess._

Spencer lathered up his head, running his hands through his hair. He turned around and rinsed, enjoying the water falling over his head and down his back.

Finally, feeling clean and much better, he toweled his body and hair, and wrapped the towel around his waist.

Spencer stepped out of the shower and saw that his clothes were gone. Mrs. Myers had taken them and left some of Mr. Myers' clothes for him.

he looked at the stack and immediately noticed something was missing. No underwear.

_Guess I'll have to go commando,_ Spencer thought uncomfortably, turning red.

He pulled on the jogging pants and pulled the cords until the fit his hips; when he was done, he could have easily wrapped them around himself at least once. Next came the shirt. A normal t-shirt. With the letters FBI on the front.

_How fitting._

Spencer walked down the hallway to the living room, where the Myers' were at. They were sitting there, in semi-darkness, staring into space.

"Uh, Mrs. Myers?" said Reid hesitantly. The woman jerked her head up suddenly. Spotting him, she gave him a small smile, as much as she could muster.

"Was your shower nice, dear?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," answered Spencer.

"I'm washing your clothes now, Dr. Reid," said Mrs. Myers. "I'll have them for you in the morning. How do those fit?" She pointed to the clothes he was wearing.

"Just fine," said Spencer. "The pants are a little big, but I'm okay."

"Yes, you are on the slender side. That's why I gave you one of Anna's oversized shirts. I would have given you a pair or her sweatpants, but you're about a foot taller."

Spencer smiled. "You should both get some sleep. My colleague would like for you to attend a press conference. If you speak there, the reporters won't need to bother you here."

"We will, Dr. Reid," said Mr. Myers. "We'll go to bed soon, don't worry. But not just yet."

"But you go on to bed, Dr. Reid," said Mrs. Myers. "You've been working hard all day."

"Alright, ma'am," said Spencer, turning to leave the room. "Good night."

"Good night, Dr. Reid."

Spencer returned to Anna's room. He shut the door, turned off all the lights except for the lamp. This was another thing he had in common with the missing woman.

He tuned back the green comforter to reveal rich brown sheets. Spencer buried himself in the bedding, enjoying the crisp cotton scent mingled with a light flowery fragrance.

Laying his head down on the pillow, he thought about everything he had read that day...

_This girl, Anna, likes to read. A lot. Mainly the Harry Potter series. But there are other books, too. Like _A Clockwork Orange_. I've been meaning to read that ever since Emily brought it up a few months ago. She's afraid of the dark like me. Her entire school career was riddled with bullying. She was smarter than most of her classmates and knew stuff most kids her age didn't, although most of her knowledge was about law enforcement (courtesy of her grandfather). _

_Her favorite subject in school was history, so she also has an extensive knowledge of almost useless facts. However, she freely admits that she just barely passed almost every math class after second grade. Her favorite city in the whole country is DC, which is why she's so excited to be moving closer. She doesn't like it for the people or the partying, but for the educational aspect. Mainly the Smithsonian Institute. Her favorite TV channels are Discovery, TLC, and Cartoon Network. She really loves her cartoons. And she's everyone's confidant. Everyone tells her everything, because, like me, she has no one to tell. That's why she keeps this diary, so _she_ has someone to tell._

_And then there's her zombie plan..._

Spencer smiled and snuggled in, thinking about the woman's Zombie Apocalypse Outline.

Here was the real reason that Spencer Reid had read and re-read the diary. He had never known someone like this. This Anna was (and he hated to use the phrase) a new breed of woman; every other woman that he had met, usually through Morgan at a bar, was either vain and claimed to have no faults, or pitiful and looking for someone to tell them that they were worth something. But this girl was different. And even though he had never actually met the girl, only read her written words, Spencer felt like he knew her. He realized how horribly cliché it sounded, but he didn't know how else to put it. He felt some kind of connection to this woman.

Not that he would ever tell anyone this.

xXx

Anna abruptly woke from her restless sleep. She felt hot and more tired than before. Her face felt tight from the dried tear tracks streaking her face. As she tried to sit up, pain came, along with memories, and she fell back on the pallet.

She remembered the man's leer, his hands all over her body, ripping her clothes, his anger... Horrible anger, which made him strike out, punch and kick and beat her until she could not breathe. And as quickly as it had come, it was gone, and so was he.

Anna spotted her pants lying a few feet away and made a lunge for them. She pulled them over and wiggled into them, humiliated, desperate to cover her naked lower half.

Once she was clothed again, she threw the blanket over herself and huddled under it. She had no idea what time it was, but if she had to guess she would say it was late. Anna lay her head down on the lumpy, understuffed pillow and, trying to ignore the ache in her entire body, willed sleep or death to take her one.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: This is a little longer chapter. But we're finally getting somewhere! There shouldn't be too many more chapters to this. So, please read and review! Enjoy! And I don't own McDonald's.**

Chapter Nine

The next morning, Reid was woken by his ringing cell phone. He fumbled with a half-numb hand until he touched the phone, and then spent the better part of thirty seconds trying to get a firm grip. He finally got it and lifted the phone to his face, hitting the answer button.

"Reid," he croaked, not opening his eyes.

"Well hello, Sleeping Beauty," chuckled the deep voice on the phone. "Have a good night?"

"Waddjawan, Morgan?" asked Reid groggily, a scowl on his sleepy face,

"For you to get up and help us, kid," said Morgan. "JJ's scheduled the press conference for two hours from now. Get the Myers' ready and I'll pick them up."

Red was wide awake now, everything about the case coming back to him.

"Okay, Morgan, I'll get them," said Reid.

"Good. And don't take my SUV for a third time, kid."

Reid scowled at the phone and hung up.

He got out of the bed, his large feet hitting the floor sooner than he had expected, almost sending his bony knees into his face. He stood and stretched, hands above his head and shirt riding over his stomach, when his pants began to fall down. Only when he felt a nice little breeze reach his intimate areas did he remember his lack of undergarments. Spencer reached down and swiftly hiked his pants up again, blushing.

Reid made his way to the bathroom, took care of business, and went back to Anna's room.

He found his clothes folded neatly on the edge of the bed. He was happy to see his underwear again.

Once he was dressed, Spencer made his way to the living room, where he found the Myers', still sitting in the same position as the night before.

"Um, good morning," said Spencer hesitantly. The parents' heads whipped around. Mrs. Myers hitched a smile on her face.

"Good morning, Dr. Reid," she said. "I see you found your clothes."

"Uh, yes, thank you," said Spencer. "My colleague has set up a press conference a little later today. Are you still willing to speak?" Both of them nodded. "Okay, Agent Morgan will be by soon to take you there." Again, both nodded.

An hour later, Morgan pulled into the Myers' driveway, parked his SUV next to the one left for Reid, and went to knock on the door. It was immediately answered by Reid.

"Hey, Morgan," he said, letting the man in.

"Hey," Morgan answered. "How're they doing?"

"They're doing okay, all things considered." said Reid. "They're in the back, let me get them." He disappeared down the hallway. He came back a minute later, followed by the couple.

"Mr. and Mrs. Myers, you remember Agent Morgan?" said Reid.

"Of course. Agent Morgan," said Mr. Myers, shaking Derek's hand. Mrs. Myers gave him a small smile, which he returned.

"I'm going to take you to the Sheriff's Office for the press conference," said Morgan. "Our colleague, Agent Jareau, will fill you in about the conference itself. You can call her JJ. You'll like her."

"What about Dr. Reid?" asked Mrs. Myers.

"I'm going to stay here," said Reid. "On the off chance that your daughter's abductor calls. Also, since most people around here will be watching the conference on T.V., they'll know that you're not at home, so I'll be here to make sure no one tries to break in. I'll be a family friend."

Morgan checked his watch. "Okay, we'd better get going." he said.

He let the Myers' go first. Before he turned to leave, Reid spoke.

"Does Garcia have anything yet?"

"No, not yet," said Morgan. "But I'm sure she'll find something soon."

"Alright. See you later," said Reid. Then, almost hesitantly, he added, "Take care of them."

"I will," said Morgan. "Later kid."

Reid watched as Morgan and the Myers' loaded into the SUV, then made it down the driveway and onto the road. Then he padded around the house for an hour until the conference came on.

He turned on the television and sat down in one of the recliners.

JJ came on first.

"Hello, and thank you for coming today. I'm Special Agent Jeniffer Jareau from the FBI. Two days ago, Anna Lee Myers was abducted after she was involved in a minor car accident. We have her parents, Jerry and Lorry Myers, here. Mr. and Mrs. Myers."

Anna's parents stepped onto the stage and up to the podium. Behind them, Reid could see Morgan and Prentiss.

Mrs. Myers held up a photo of Anna. Her long brown hair caught the sunlight in the photo and her deep brown eyes crinkled with her bright smile. Reid was taken aback for a second; she was beautiful.

"This is my daughter, Anna Lee Myers," said the woman. "She's twenty-eight years old." Her voice started to crack. "She used to be a school teacher. First grade. She-she loves children. And green, her favorite color is green....She's a reader; she'll read just about anything she can get her hands on....Our Anna's a sweet, kind, loving woman. She doesn't deserve this. Please, let her come home to us."

Mr. Myers stepped forward and leaned into the microphone. "Please, I just want my little girl home. Just let our daughter come back to us." And he burst into tears.

Morgan and Prentiss helped the Myers' off the stage as JJ reclaimed the podium.

"If you have any information about Anna Myers or her abductor, please call the number on your screen. Thank you for your time. That's all."

She walked off the screen but the camera stayed trained, giving people time to copy the number.

Reid turned the television off and made his way back across the house. He had just made it to Anna's room when his phone rang.

"Yeah, Reid," he answered.

"Hey, Reid." It was JJ.

"Hey, you did great," said Reid.

"Thanks, Mrs. Myers wanted me to call and let you know that since she didn't get a chance to make you breakfast, there's food in the fridge. Whatever you guys had last night." He could practically hear her smiling. "She said that you're too skinny and shouldn't be missing meals."

Reid smiled. "Alright, tell her I'll go eat right now. Thanks, JJ."

"You're welcome. See ya later, Spence," she said, hanging up.

Spencer got up and made his way to the kitchen, then to the fridge. He heated up the hamburger in the microwave, and then sat down at the dining room table.

He was three bites in when it hit him.

"Hamburger....Wait, that's it!"

Spencer jumped up from his chair.

"Anna was making a trip to get a hamburger! She went to McDonald's! That's it, that's what I've been looking for!"

He ran to Anna's room and grabbed his messenger bag and the keys, then ran out the door. Spencer jumped into the black SUV, started the engine, turned on the GPS (thankful to find it had signal), and took off.

xXx

Anna woke up again. This time, there was no fleeting vision of hope. No small relief that she had woken up at all. She would rather that she died peacefully in her sleep. Anna had given up.

She knew that it could be worse; he could have actually raped her. But the beatings, they were bad.

Anna sat up slowly and gingerly felt her abdomen. It hurt, but she didn't think anything was broken. She touched her face. The swelling around her eye had gone down; it was probably just a horrible shade of purple. At least she could see out of it.

Looking around, Anna noticed that there was a plate of food in the middle of the floor, a bottle of water next to it. It took a few minutes and quite lot of self-motivation to get up and get it.

Well, "get up" might not be the right phrase. Crawl, maybe.

Anna crawled over to the plate and took off the plastic wrap. The wonderful smell of pancakes reached her nose. Picking up the plastic fork, she dug into the pancakes and scrambled eggs. As she ate, small bits of determination returned to her.

_I can't die here,_ she thought. _I _won't_ die here. I refuse to. That obsessive creep may have me here now, but I refuse to give in. To lay down and die. He can do whatever, but I will not give up hope._

xXx

Reid followed the GPS's instructions and found the local McDonald's about twenty minutes from the Myers' house. He quickly parked the SUV, locked it, and walked inside. He had tried to call his team on the road, but the backwoods would not cooperate with him and let him have a signal.

He walked through the doors and up to the counter. It took a minute before he could get the attention of an employee.

"Can I help you?" she asked, walking over the register, fingers poised over the keys.

"Uh, actually, I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me," said Spencer, flashing his credentials. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid, with the FBI." He rummaged through his bag as he spoke. "A, uh, few days ago, a girl came in here. Her name is Anna Myers. Do you know her?"

"Not by the name, no," said the woman.

"Here," said Reid, withdrawing from his bag. "Here's a picture of her."

The employee took the picture from his hands and held it close to her face; apparently the woman was near-sighted.

"Oh, yeah, I saw her," she said. "She was in here two days ago. Ordered a cheeseburger and a small fry." She handed back the picture.

Reid gave her a questioning look; how could she remember that? The employee shrugged.

"It hasn't been real busy around here lately," she said. "We've had maybe twenty-five customers here in the last two days."

"Did you notice anyone giving her any attention?" asked Reid, hoping her memory would come through. "Did anyone talk to her at all? Or was maybe staring at her? It could have been open staring or he may have tried to be secretive about it. Does any of this sound familiar?"

The employee took a minute to think. Then her eyes snapped up.

"Yes, I _did_ notice someone looking at her," she said. "He seemed like he was trying to be sneaky about it, but there was a look on his face, almost like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I just thought it was because this girl was pretty."

Reid's stomach jumped a bit; _he may have just broke the case open!_

"Do you know who the man is?" he asked. _Please, oh please know who he is! Come on, it's a small town; everyone know everyone!_

"Yes, his name's Dylan Morris," she said.

Reid's stomach did a full back flip. _I have a name!_

"Do you know where he lives?" he asked, daring to hope.

"Yeah, on Fox Country Road," she said. Reid could have fainted from excitement.

"Can you give me directions?" he asked.

The employee proceeded to give him directions; turn right out of the parking lot, follow the highway for a bit, then turn on something-or-another road, follow that for a country mile (he made a mental note to look up exactly what unit of measurement that was later), make a few left turns and then a right, and he'd end up there eventually.

Reid practically ran out the doors and hopped into the SUV. He carefully followed the directions given to him, and in about half an hour, he found himself outside a house.

It looked like it had been nice a short time ago. However, the elements and general neglect had reduced it to a dreary sight. The lawn was wild, the driveway had many craters in it, wild vines of some kind of plant had wound themselves around every which way. The paint was chipping in many places, and at least one window was covered in plastic wrap where the glass had broken.

He walked slowly up to the door, hand on his gun. He had tried to call the team again, but the signal still would not cooperate with him. He knew that Hotch would be unbelievably angry when he found out what Reid did, but Reid did not care. All he could think of was rescuing Anna and bringing the Myers' their daughter back.

Reid reached the door and knocked on it. After a few minutes of nothing, he turned back around to get back in the SUV when he almost ran into a man.

"Geez--" Reid stuttered, putting a hand to his heart. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Randy Russell," said the man. "I live 'cross the street. Seen you through the winder' and wondered what you was doing. Snoopin'?"

_Oh no, a true redneck,_ thought Spencer._ I wondered if I'd ever meet one of these. Please don't let him be the 'gun-toting' type!_

"Actually, I'm with the FBI," said Reid, pulling out his credentials and showing them to the man, Russell. "Have you seen Dylan Morris around here lately?"

"Naw, he leaves fer work 'round five in the mornin'. Don't get back 'til 'bout 'leven."

"Five to eleven?" asked Reid. "Aren't those odd work hours?"

"He gets off work at five," said Randy. "Don't rightly know where he goes fer the rest of the time. Huntin' I guess. He used to not be out late, but since that Melanie girl left, he's just let 'imself go."

"Melanie?"

"Yeah, that was his lady friend," said Randy. "I liked her alright. She was nice. Real pretty girl."

"What happened to Melanie?" asked Reid.

"Don't really know, tell the you the truth. She was here one night and then she was gone the next mornin'. Dylan said she'd left him. Took all her stuff and gone."

Reid took a minute to think about this. This was sounding vaguely like their profile.

"You said he might be hunting?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Randy. "He usually goes out into a patch of woods 'bout three miles from here on some property he owns. Got a little bunker him and his daddy made out there. It's real nice, got a toilet in it 'n all."

For the second time that day, Reid asked for directions. Except these were a little more difficult to follow. Head down the road for a bit, turn right when he got a hair past the bridge over something called a 'crick'. Go down that road for country mile (_seriously, what the hell _is _that?_), pass a few signs. When he got to the cow crossing sign, take a left...It only got more complicated from there.

Reid thanked the man and made a hurried escape to the SUV; ever since Hankel he'd been wary of weirdos with southern accents.

It took him a good forty-five minutes to find the particular woods that Randy had told him about. Mainly because he was trying to figure out how many horse crossing signs he'd passed before he needed to turn right again. He finally figure out he was in the right place because of the abandoned and decrepit shack across the road from the trees.

Leaving the SUV in the shack's small driveway, Reid carefully crossed the road. He tried yet again to make a cell phone call, but still had no bars. So he went ahead, plunging himself into the woods.

His cardigan caught on thorns and twigs as he walked over the uneven ground. It was spring, and the flowers and trees were blooming. If he had not been looking for an abducted woman and fearful he would run into the murderer, he would have enjoyed the view.

After a good ten minutes of trudging around, it finally dawned on Reid that he had no idea what he was looking for, and exactly how stupid it was to go running off into the woods with no backup, and with the team having no idea where in the hell he was.

Just as common sense returned to him, Reid heard something approaching. Fast. He turned around, trying to see what it was, but only saw leaves and trees. His heart beating violently against his chest, Reid turned and tried to run the way he had come, only to realize that he now had no idea which way was which.

Halfway through his panic attack, Reid grabbed his phone, and just barely registered that he had three bars.

_Oh, _now_ I have service,_ he thought ironically. _Out in the middle of freaking nowhere!_

His thumb pounded the buttons to his speed dial. Any number would do. He had just landed on Morgan's and the phone dialed when he was hit from behind. In his shock, Reid hit the off button, cutting off his call to Morgan just as the man answered. The phone fell from Reid's hand and landed on the ground.

Reid crumpled to the dirt, hand on his head. He tried desperately to fight back, but his attacker swung at his head again and made contact. With a dull _thunk_, Spencer Reid was knocked out.

**Author's Note: Well, he's in deep now. Wonder what will happen to him? Alert this story and find out soon! For a more humorous take on Reid abduction, see my story "Here We Go Again". Shameless plug over.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: This chapter was actually so big I had to break it up. So you'll get the rest next chapter. I am slightly worried that my dear Anna might be going Mary Sue on me, so I'm tweaking her parts in the next chapter to keep that from happening. There's nothing I hate more than a perfect woman (so I naturally dislike the woman from the spin-off, whom I don't even deem impirtant enough to remember her name). I appreciate all the Favorites and Alerts, but I am a starving author, and reviews are like delicious Reid-shaped cookies to me. So could I get some read-and-reviews? Thanks and Enjoy!**

Chapter Ten

*Earlier that day*

The team was just about to leave the press conference when Morgan's phone rang.

"Hey Garcia," he announced. "Hold on, I'm gonna out you on speaker."

"Go, Garcia," said Hotch. "Do you have anything?"

"I sure do, Boss Man," said Garcia. "Reid was right; about eight months ago, a woman was found dead, buried under some leaves in the woods. Her name was Melanie Davis. She looks, like, freaky close to our victims. Brown hair and eyes, all."

"Why weren't the cases connected?" asked Hotch.

Except for how similar the victims look, nothing's the same. Melanie was strangled."

"Okay, thanks, Garcia. Keep looking into that."

"Got it. Out." She hung up.

Hotch turned to his team.

"Morgan, take the Myers' home, fill Reid in. Emily and JJ, call Garcia back, find out where Melanie's parents live, and interview them."

"Got it," said Morgan. He walked over to the Myers' and they all left with JJ and Emily.

Morgan and the Myers' arrived back at the house, where Morgan immediately noticed something amiss: the SUV left for Reid was gone.

_Aww, man, this isn't good_, thought Morgan.

He and the Myers' walked up to the back door, where Mrs. Myers unlocked it. Morgan entered first. He made his way through the whole house, calling Reid's name. He finally concluded that the genius was not there.

"Damn," he swore. No note, not text, no phone call.

"Where's Dr. Reid?" asked Mrs. Myers.

"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out," said Morgan. He took out his cell phone and dialed.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, something's wrong. Reid's not here, his SUV's gone, and there's no note."

Hotch was silent on the other end. Finally, he spoke.

"Go over the house, we'll meet you there."

"Okay," said Morgan, closing his phone. He turned to the Myers. "I'm sorry, but I'm gonna ask you not to touch anything. My team will be here soon. Dr. Reid is missing."

xXx

Emily and JJ had called Garcia, gotten Melanie Davis' parents' address, and were on their way there. JJ's phone started to ring.

"Yeah, JJ," she answered.

"JJ, it's Hotch."

"Hey, Hotch," said JJ. "We're on our way to the Davis' house now."

"JJ, Reid's missing."

"_What?_" she asked sharply.

"What is it?" asked Emily.

"Morgan took the Myers' home. Reid's SUV was gone, and he's not there. There's no note, no text, and he didn't call anyone. I've got Rossi with me now, we're heading to the house."

"Oh my God," said JJ. "Do--do you want us to go, too?"

"No, you and Prentiss go interview Melanie's parents. Maybe they have something that could help us."

"Alright." JJ hung up.

"What's wrong?" asked Emily, panicked.

"Reid's missing."

Emily slammed on the brakes and the vehicle jolted.

"_What?_" she screeched.

"Reid's missing. Hotch wants us to still go interview the parents."

Emily sat for the moment, then put the SUV back in gear and they took off.

They arrived at the house and hurried to knock on the door. A thin woman with gray hair answered.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hello, Mrs. Davis? We're with the FBI," said Emily, as she and JJ flashed their credentials. "I'm Agent Prentiss and this is Agent Jareau. We were hoping you could answer a few questions about your daughter."

"But my Melanie's dead," said Mrs. Davis.

"We know, ma'am," said JJ softly. "We think that the man who murdered her may be hurting other woman."

Mrs. Davis hesitated for a moment, but then stepped back. "Come in," she said.

JJ and Emily walked inside, then sat down in the living room.

"I don't know who killed my daughter," said Mrs. Davis, "but I'll answer anything I know."

JJ started. "Did you by any chance watch the press conference that ran this afternoon?"

"About the woman who was kidnapped? Myers, I think her last name was?"

"Yes, ma'am," said JJ. "Anna Myers. She's the latest victim in a string of abductions and murders. And we think that whoever's responsible for your daughter's murder may also be committing these crimes."

Mrs. Davis' hands flew to her mouth in horror. "Oh my," she said.

"Mrs. Davis, could you or your husband tell us what your daughter was doing before her death?" asked Emily.

"My...my husband died two months ago," said Mrs. Davis. "I think it was the grief." She paused for a moment. "Melanie and just turned twenty-six the month before she was killed. She was a nurse, a CNA. She was living on her own, she had her own place. But, in the months before her death, she had met a boy. She started spending nights at his house. Melanie assured me that they weren't doing anything, but I still wished she'd stay at her own place at night."

"Did you ever meet this boy?" asked JJ.

"Yes, at the funeral. He was supposed to come over for lunch, but Melanie was murdered the day before."

"What impression did he give you?" Emily asked. "Did he make you feel uncomfortable...?"

"Oh no," said Mrs. Davis. "He was a little shy, but he seemed sweet."

"Do you know his name?" asked JJ.

"Yes, it was Dylan something. Uh, Morris, I think."

Emily's and JJ's eyes lit up.

"Is that helpful?" asked Mrs. Davis.

"Yes, very much," said JJ. "Thank you for helping us."

The girls hurried out of the house and into the SUV, desperate to call Hotch and Garcia.

xXx

Hotch and Rossi had just arrived at the Myers' house, where they helped Morgan look for anything that might help them find their young genius.

Suddenly, Morgan's phone rang. He looked at the number. Reid. He answered it immediately.

"Reid, where the hell are you?"

No one answered.

"Hello? Hello?!?"

He heard a thud, a yelp, and then the line went dead.

_"Reid!"_ Morgan yelled into the phone.

Hotch and Rossi had come running.

"Morgan, what is it?" asked Hotch.

"Reid called me, but he didn't say anything. All I heard was someone yelling, and then it went dead."

Hotch's face turned grave. "So it's safe to say that Reid's been abducted."

"Yeah," agreed Morgan seriously, shaking his head. "He must have seen something we didn't and took off after it. Damn!"

"We need to figure out what he did," said Hotch. "It's the only way to find him. And if we find him, we may find Anna Myers."

"Dammit, kid, what did you get yourself into now?" Derek mumbled.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait guys. I've been busy with college finals and moving back home for the summer. Anyways, I'm home now, and with only work a few days a week to distract me, I think I'll be able to turnout more chapters at a much better pace. Warning, Anna is still a bit Mary Sue-ish, but I went back in and fixed as much as I could, so she's not that bad. Still spunky. I appreciate everyone who has favorited/alerted/reviewed this story. And I really appreciate the reviews! *HintHint* So, here's the next chapter, and I'm off to a zombie hunter's alliance meeting. Have a good one, guys!**

Chapter Eleven

Anna was sitting on her pallet, thinking.

_Pancakes…that's usually a breakfast food. Which means morning. When I got to them, they were cold, which means that it was probably later in the morning. It's been a few hours since I ate that, maybe nine. Surely it's past time for lunch, but he didn't bring lunch. He never does. But he always brings dinner. Which should be sometime soon, come to think about it._

No sooner had she thought this than the door opened. However, the man did not immediately come inside. Instead, it sounded like he was struggling with something.

_Please don't let it be another woman! No one else should have to go through this hell._

The man finally came into the room, back first. He was dragging something. Anna moved closer, and saw that the something was a man.

"Melanie, I'm sorry, but you'll have to share your space for a little bit," said her captor. "I found this guy roaming around outside, but I don't have time to deal with him right now." He reached out of the room and grabbed something. "Here's your supper."

He sat down a plate and water bottle in front of her. Anna backed up, trying to put some distance between herself and the man.

Big mistake.

His face contorted in rage.

"I made that supper for you and you aren't even going to eat it?" he yelled. "You ungrateful little bitch!"

_Here it comes_, thought Anna.

His fast made full contact with the side of her head, and stars popped into her vision. She felt herself being lifted by her hair. More yelling. Then she gave a yelp as she was slammed against the wall.

She slithered down and had only seconds until the onslaught of fists and boots. Kicks to her legs, punches into her stomach, more kicks to the back.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. There was more shouting, and the door slammed angrily, leaving an overwhelming silence.

Anna pushed through the pain and sat up. Normally, she would have crawled over to the pallet and collapsed, but now she had something to take care of, someone to take care of. She looked over at the unconscious man.

Slowly and painfully, she made her way over to him. Anna pulled some stray leaves and twigs out of his hair, and then pushed his bangs out of his face and smiled. He was very handsome.

_Skinny though. Really skinny. But I've never been one for muscles or brawn. Skinny is good._

Anna dragged the man over to the pallet and pulled the blanket over him. She brushed his hair out of his face again, smiling. He had a lovely face. And very nice cheekbones.

After she had made sure that the man was situated, she went over to the plate of food. The sight of ham, broccoli, and cornbread made her mouth water. She was tempted to dive right in.

_Wait,_ she thought. _I have someone I have to share with now. I have to save him some, he'll need it when he wakes up. I'm sure he's got a family who loves him and wants him back home. Even if I don't make it, I have to make sure he does._

So she picked up the plastic fork and cut the ham in half. Then she cut the cornbread and divided the broccoli. Slowly, she ate her half of the food until it was gone. Then she turned to the water bottle.

_No cups,_ Anna thought. _Well, I guess we can take turns drinking. We're being held against our will by a mentally unstable man who's probably going to try to kill us at some point, I think a little backwash is the least of our worries._

xXx

Emily had already pulled out of Mrs. Davis' driveway and was on the road when JJ called Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"It's JJ," she said hurriedly. "We've got a name. Dylan Morris."

"Call Garcia. Tell her to look up anything she can on him."

JJ noticed the stress in Hotch's voice.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Reid's been abducted."

JJ felt her stomach drop.

"Oh God. Are you sure?"

"What is it?" asked Emily.

"Reid's been taken," said JJ, putting Hotch on speaker.

"Morgan got a call from Reid," said Hotch. "All he heard was someone yelling and it hung up. He's been calling Reid back, but the phone's lost service."

Emily immediately slammed her foot on the accelerator.

"We'll be there as soon as we can, Hotch," she said.

"Okay," said the Unit Chief, hanging up.

"Call Garcia," said Emily. JJ nodded and found the technical analyst's number.

"Technical pride of Quantico, watcha need?" answered Garcia, as bubbly as usual. No one had told her yet.

"Garcia, Reid's been kidnapped."

"Oh God," said Garcia, horrified. "No, not again. Are you sure?"

"Yes," said JJ. "Garcia, we have a name for you. Dylan Morris."

"Okay," said Garcia, trying to force herself to concentrate.

"He was Melanie Davis' boyfriend when she was murdered. Find anything you can on him."

"Got it. I'll get back to you," said Garcia.

"Thanks," JJ said, hanging up.

xXx

Anna was dozing lightly, propped against the wall. When she had finished with the water, she had checked on the new man one last time to make sure he still looked comfortable, and then she settled down against the wall. She had originally intended to just rest and keep watch, but she eventually drifted into a light sleep.

She was quickly awoken, however, by the sound of something stirring. Anna's eyes snapped open, fearing that her tormentor had returned. However, she quickly realized that the noise was coming from somewhere else.

The new man was stirring, Anna made her way to him as quickly as she could (her whole body still hurt) and knelt beside him.

His face was contorted, halfway between pain and concentration. Anna reached her hands to his head and gently stroked his hair.

"Come on now," she whispered. "You can do it. Wake up."

The man's eyelids started to flutter.

"That's right," Anna coaxed. "That's it. You can do it. Open your eyes."

The man gave a low groan and his eyes slowly slid open. Anna found herself staring into deep brown orbs, unable to look away.

_His eyes are...beautiful_ she thought.

As the man's eyes focused, Anna realized something.

_I'm topless_. It was true; her shirt lay a few feet away, far too ripped and torn to be of any use.

unfortunately, the man also seemed to realize this. His eyes rolled over her, paused for millisecond, he turned a bright red, and quickly turned his head the other way at the same time that Anna withdrew her hand from his hair and wrapped her arms around her naked torso. She turned quickly around, trying to hide herself.

Everything was quiet for a moment, but then she heard the man move around, the rustle of clothes. the Anna heard the man utter a soft "Here", and felt fabric drape over her shoulders.

It was the man's blue cardigan. Anna buttoned it quickly. it was a little large for her, but it covered the essential areas.

Anna turned around and uttered a small "Thanks." The man gave her a small smile, his face still a little pink.

"Well, since I have a feeling we'll be here a while, I think introductions are in order."

"I'm Anna Myers," she said. "Special Agent Anna Myers, if you want to be formal."

The man gave her another small smile, almost like an innocent but ironic smirk.

"I'm Spencer Reid," he said. "Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid, if you want to be formal."

Anna smiled herself, though it was hindered a bit by her slightly swollen cheek.

"So, they called in the FBI, did they?" she asked wryly.

"Uh, yeah," answered Spencer.

"Wait, Supervisory?" Anna asked. "What unit do you work for?"

"The Behavioral Analysis Unit," answered Spencer.

"Oh. Hey, that's the department that I'm--"

"That you're going to work for," finished Spencer. he gave a sheepish smile. "I, uh, read your diary."

"The BAU usually does serial cases," said Anna. "So does that mean that I was taken by a serial killer?"

"Yes," Spencer answered. She was a federal agent, she knew how to deal with the truth. She deserved to know.

Anna sighed. She had pretty much figured out that she wasn't the first woman to be held here.

"Tell me about the case," she said.

"What?" asked Spencer, surprised.

"The case," said Anna. "Tell me about it. It's my case, I think I have a right to know about it.

Spencer thought for a moment. She did have a right to know. Maybe she could see something that he did not, and they could find a way out.

"You're the fourth to be taken," he started. "The first three were all beaten before their death, many times over a short period." He winced, looking at Anna bruised face. "They were all found with their blouses ripped and underwear torn off, which suggests--"

"Suggests impotence, yeah," said Anna darkly. "He's impotent alright. But it's not for lack of trying, believe me."

Spencer gave her a sympathetic smile.

"So, what?" Anna asked, returning his smile as best she could.

"He keeps them for three weeks, leaves their bodies, and then finds a new girl."

"How do they d-die?" she asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide her trepidation of the word.

"They were, uh, stabbed," he said, reluctant to give her this information. "Repeatedly. They suffered until they finally died, and then he continued to stab them."

Guilt settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach as he watch Anna pale under her bruises.

"Rage," said Anna, trying to focus. "Excessive stabbing means intense emotions, probably anger. Someone must have pissed this guy off bad. You wouldn't happen to know his name, would you?"

"Dylan Morris," said Spencer.

Anna was silent for a moment. The she got up slowly and painfully made her way to the middle of the room. Spencer watched her hobble, wincing in sympathy.

He had a...feeling. It was not pity, he was sure of that. He wanted to stop her moving around, to stop her from hurting. Not because it was the right thing to do, but because something in himself wanted to stop her pain.

Anna came back, carrying something. A plate and bottle of water.

"Here," she said, handing it to him. Their hands brushed for a second and something jolted in Spencer's stomach.

_Why am I feeling this?_ he thought. _Wait, _what_ am I feeling?_

Spencer took the plate and the water.

"He only brings two meals a day," said Anna. So we each get half. There's no cups, so we'll have to share the bottle. Sorry."

"It's okay," said Spencer, picking up the plastic fork. He started with the ham. It was cold, but it was still good.

"How...how long have I been here?" Anna asked quietly.

"Three days," answered Spencer, swallowing the last bite of ham. Anna sat silently, fiddling with the hem of the slightly oversized cardigan, letting him eat in peace. When he was finished, she looked up.

"Have you...met my parents?" she asked, not quite meeting his eyes. "How are they?"

"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Myers. They, uh, let me at their house last night."

"Really?" Anna asked, trying to think. _We don't have a guest room._

"Yeah, they, uh, let me stay in your room," said Spencer awkwardly.

_Oh God_, Anna thought. _When was the last time I vacuumed? Did I empty my trash can? Oh crap, please let me have thrown my dirty underwear in the laundry!_ The last thought made her turn red.

"Oh, um, I hope it was c-comfortable," she stuttered, not knowing what to say.

"Very," said Spencer with a small chuckle. "You have a very nice color pallet."

Anna could not help but smile, embarrassedly.

"Yeah, green's my favorite--"

"Your favorite color," finished Spencer, grinning.

"You guessed, huh?" said Anna wryly, smiling. The action was starting to hurt less the more she did it.

"That, and you wrote it in your diary. Your _green_ diary."

Anna smirked.

"So, how was my house last night?" she asked.

"Um, your mother is a very good cook," answered Spencer.

"Yeah, she is," agreed Anna. "She tends to cook when she's worried."

"No kidding. I got coffee, a fell breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Your mother makes really good hamburger steak."

Anna's mouth started to instantly water. "Aw man, hamburger. Lucky." She stuck her tongue out at him.

Spencer shrugged innocently at her. He knew he should me more worried right now, but it was hard. Anna was just so chipper and spunky, even after being abducted and beaten for three days, that it was hard to feel anything negative.

Anna closed her eyes and grinned.

"You know what I'd really go for right now?" she asked. A nice big frappe. Or a mocha. Or just a big, fat cup of coffee."

Spencer smiled.

"Coffee addict?" he asked.

"Big time." She held up her bloody and bruised hands. "I'm already feeling withdrawal."

Spencer still doesn't know why he did it.

Looking at her ragged and abused hands, shaking from lack of caffeine, something came over him. He reached out and took her hands in his own.

Anna looked up at him in surprise, and Spencer stared back, equally surprised. They stared at each other for a few seconds that seemed to take an eternity, their joined hands between them.

All Anna could thing was _How Disney..._

She finally broke the semi-trance, dropping her eyes and gently moving her hands.

"U-um..." she stuttered and filled. _Dammit!_ she thought. _Why the hell am I tongue-tied _now_? _She searched for something, anything, any kind or form of word. _Say something, stupid!_

"Wah--um--" she verbally flailed. She was saved when he spoke.

"Why don't we, uh, t-try to get some rest?" he asked. "We can take it in turns."

"There's no point," said Anna, finding her language skills again. "He won't come again until morning. And we'll both need the uninterrupted sleep. Trust me."

She looked at the pallet, and then back at him.

"It's not very big, but it's all we have. And there's only one blanket."

Spencer hesitated, and then made the universal "you first" motion.

Anna laid down first, then Spencer slid in after her. He froze when he felt her back brush his hip.

"Relax, Spencer," Anna said. "The pallet is small, we're gonna touch, no matter what. It's fine."

Spencer laid down, but still remained stiff. He laid there for a while, trying to fall asleep, but just not able to.

Suddenly, he felt something pressing into his back. He craned his head to look behind him. Anna had fallen asleep, and in her sleep, had curled up on herself and pressed herself against his back.

Not feeling comfortable with something against his back, Spencer turned over until he faced her. It was just something about him; he hated something between his back and a solid surface, so he'd rather face it.

Without missing a beat, a still-sleeping Anna curled right into him, letting out a small, incomprehensible mumble. She nested her head into Spencer's chest, which sent his heart racing. His reflex was to wrap his arms around her torso. While awkward, he could not help but notice how well she fit.

Spencer laid his own head down on the under-stuffed pillow. He knew that he should be very concerned, about his--their--plight, but he just could not make himself feel much besides the rather pleasurable butterflies beating around in his stomach.

xXx

Emily and JJ had gotten to the Myers' house long ago, and now, hours later, the team had found nothing.

"Whatever Reid found, I don't think we're gonna find it here," said Rossi, standing in the kitchen with the gathered team.

Hotch had his hand to his forehead.

"You're right," he said. "We're getting nowhere. Let's get back to the B and B and get some rest. Maybe we'll think better in the morning."

Everyone mumbled their agreement. They were all worried about Reid, and none of them _wanted_ to go to sleep while he was missing, but if they all passed out from exhaustion it wouldn't do Reid much good.

"I'll call Garcia from the car," said Morgan. "Otherwise, she'll never go home."

Hotch nodded. They all marched out of the home, saying goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Myers, and got into their SUVs.

Once Morgan was behind the wheel, he instantly pulled out his phone and dialed Garcia, as much to hear and talk to another human as to get an update. Without Reid, the SUV suddenly seemed very empty and unwelcome.

"Garcia," answered the tech analyst.

"Nothing witty?" Morgan asked half-heartedly.

"It's eleven o'clock at night, I'm tired, we have no leads, and Reid's missing. No, Hot Stuff, nothing witty."

"I know, Baby Girl," said Morgan. "I just called to tell you Hotch wants all of us to go home and get some rest. You, too."

"But I'm looking for--"

"I know, but you need to rest."

"No, what I _need_ is to tell North Carolina how to sort files and use a friggin' computer," Garcia huffed.

"Not much luck?" Morgan asked.

"That's an understatement. Their databases are all outta whack, and I can't find so much a driver's license on this Morris guy."

"Well, go home, get some rest, and you'll be able to find it in the morning."

"Do I have to? I'm sure if I keep trying, I'll--"

"Home. Now. Garcia. You're about to drop, I can hear it. Go sleep, and then start again in the morning."

Garcia gave a dramatic sigh. "Fine." She paused. "You're gonna find him, right, Derek?"

"Yes, Baby Girl, we are going to find him. But we need rest to do it. I'm sure Reid's going to be fine for the night. Now, go home, baby. Goodnight, Garcia."

"Goodnight, Derek. Love you."

"Love you, too, Baby Girl."

Morgan hung up the phone and continued his lonely drive back to the B and B.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: So to those of you who reviewed, I missed my deadline by a little bit. Sorry! Painting and redecorating my room (oh, and that pesky job thing, too) kind of got me side-tracked. But here's chapter twelve, not too incredibly late. Also, my dad wouldn't stop talking during tonight's (last night's by the time you read this) episode, so I missed the beginning. If someone could tell me what, if anything, the team said about Reid's new haircut. I was so looking forward to their reactions. And speaking of his hair, I'm not crazy about it. Yes, it makes him look younger, but I prefered his nice long curls. Or they could have at least gotten him a comb. Anyway, here's the next chapter, please read and review! Enjoy!**

Chapter Twelve

Anna woke up slowly. She was wonderfully warm and sleepy, and all she wanted to do was stay nestled where she was and drift back to sleep.

_And what's that noise?_ she thought. A steady _thump, thump, thump_. It was a comforting sound, but she didn't know what it was, or why. And then she got it. A heartbeat.

_Surely that's not _my_ heartbeat. If mine's that loud, I should be seriously worried. If that doesn't scream "heart attack" I don't know what does._

Very slowly, Anna cracked her eyes open. As soon as she caught a glimpse of something, however, her eyes flew open.

Sleeping next to her, or rather right in front of her, was a man. Actually, it was more like he was sleeping _around_ her.

A brief second of panic came over her, but then she remembered the night before. The man, she came up with Dylan Morris but had no idea where from, had brought in another man, another FBI agent--oh, _that's_ where the name came from. The agent, Spencer Reid worked for the BAU, her next assignment. And _that_ man now had his arms wrapped around her, sleeping.

Anna gave a sigh of relief and relaxed. Then tensed again.

That man now had his arms wrapped around her, sleeping! And there she was with her head buried in his chest. Anna blushed.

She glanced sheepishly at him, even though he was still asleep. Her eyes took in his pale face, his closed eyelids, the dark circles under his eyes, he stubble on his sunken cheeks and cleft chin, the soft-looking lips, and onto his neck. Here she stopped.

Anna had always been a neck girl, and Doctor Spencer Reid's was an example of perfection. Long and thin, with a protruding Adam's Apple. She stared at it, licking her lips.

_I want to lick it. I want to close my lips over it, suck, bite it--wait, what? What the hell, Anna?_ she thought, turning red. _That is _so_ not appropriate. Not to mention seriously disturbing. Wha--?_

Her thoughts immediately stopped when she looked back at him. Her eyes were glued to him. Spencer swallowed him his sleep, and Anna was close to drooling as she watched his Adam's Apple bob.

Coming out of her trance, she actually caught herself leaning forward, mouth open, zeroed in on the man's neck. She shook herself.

_Really Anna, really? That's sad, just sad. What the hell, woman?_

Her thinking was cut short yet again, this time by the dreaded creak of the heavy door. Anna froze as she heard the footsteps come closer.

"Melanie," the young man, Morris, crooned. "Melanie, I brought you breakfast. I ha--_what are you doing?_"

Anna checked herself and realized that there she was, wrapped in the arms of a man, wearing his clothes, in front of a psychotic nutcase who believed she was his girlfriend.

Anna had just enough time--and sense--to slip out of Spencer's arms and pull the cardigan off before Dylan Morris ripped her from the pallet.

"You little slut!" h yelled, jamming his fist into her stomach. Breath knocked out of her, Anna could only gape like a fish out of water. Morris slammed her into the opposite wall, and stars popped into her vision when her head made contact with the concrete. Her body felt completely numb and she fell limply to the floor.

Spencer was pulled from sleep with Morris' yell, but the horrible bone-crunching noise of a body hitting concrete made him spring up from the pillow. He looked over and saw a man--the UnSub--crouching over an unmoving figure he knows to be Anna.

It takes him a minute to register what's going on. Unfortunately, in that minute Morris is able to bury his fists into Anna a few more times.

Spencer finally gets to it, but just as he's standing up, Morris stops his assault.

"You're lucky I have to get to work, bitch. But don't worry, I won't forget when I come back tonight."

And with that, he turned and stormed out, slamming the heavy door.

Spencer hurried up from the pallet and ran over to Anna. He crouched next to her unmoving frame, and his heart stopped for a moment as he thought the worst.

_Oh God, she's not moving! She's dead, she's dead! Oh no! No no no no no!_

But a few seconds later her hand twitched and she took a shuttering breath. Spencer let out a small relieved sigh.

"Anna," he said softly. "Anna." Getting no response, Spencer put his arms under her and heaved her up with a small grunt. It wasn't that she was heavy, he just wasn't particularly strong.

Spencer slowly and carefully made his way over to the pallet, and tried his best not to outright dump her on the egg crate foam. He lowered her carefully, and though she hit the pallet a little harder than he would have liked, Anna didn't complain.

It was then that Spencer noticed that she was again naked from the hips up. He tried to avert his eyes as he searched through the blanket for his cardigan, but seeing as how he had to basically crouch over her to get reach the blanket, it didn't work too well. Spencer finally found the garment and withdrew from Anna's personal space, face red. Only to realize that he would have to invade her space again to clothe her.

Face now redder than a tomato, Spencer unbuttoned the cardigan, and then entered into a complicated dance with deadweight, wrestling arms into sleeves and a back to arch so fabric could slide underneath, until he finally had Anna wrapped in the cardigan again.

Sitting back on his knees, body resting on his feet, Spencer sat next to Anna, unsure of what to do.

_Well, waking her might be a good start, genius._

So he leaned over her, and reached a tentative hand out to her shoulder, then shook her gently.

"Anna..." he called softly. "Anna..."

No response.

"Anna," he said a little firmer, shaking her more. "Anna, wake up."

Still nothing. Then an idea came to Spencer, something from her diary.

"Annie," said Spencer in a sing-song voice. "Come on, Annie, wake up. Wake up, Annie."

This seemed to do it. Anna's eyes fluttered and she groaned.

"Wake up, Annie," Spencer said again, brushing his hands over her hair.

"Mmmm..." Anna groaned, her eyes slowly opening.

"Come on, let's see those eyes," said Spencer encouragingly. He smiled as her brown eyes opened, trying to focus on him. "There you go. There're those eyes, Annie."

Slowly the fuzz began to fade from Anna's brain and coherent thoughts formed again. She tried to sit up, but her head pounded and her vision swam, and she swayed. Spencer immediately put his arm around her, steadying her.

"Easy," he said.

"What...what happened?" Anna asked groggily.

"I'm not really sure. I woke up and he had slammed you into the wall, and then he punched you a, uh, couple times. I have no idea what set him off."

Anna remembered, and winced.

"He's delusional, believes I'm his girlfriend. He saw me, wearing your clothes, sleeping next to you with your arms around me, and went off the handle."

Spencer felt bad, knowing that _he_ was part of the reason her beating had been so bad. Before he could get lost in his own guilt, Anna spoke again.

"So you redressed me?" She gave a mock sultry smile.

"What? Oh, yeah, I, um...I--you...um...Yeah," he stumbled.

"What's the matter, Dr. Reid, never seen a woman half naked before?" Anna teased, her eyes twinkling. She laughed outright when Spencer blushed.

"Okay, okay," he said, grinning embarrassedly. "Laugh it up. Why did you it off, anyway?"

"Because that's the only clothing I have," said Anna. "He ripped my shirt. Your cardigan is all I have to cover me. It was either ditch it before he got to me, or let him rip it to shreds. I only hope he doesn't decide to rip my jeans; he already destroyed my underwear." She smiled as Spencer looked uncomfortable. "My turn to ask a question. Why'd you call me 'Annie'?"

"Oh," Spencer said, smiling sheepishly now. "It, uh, it was in your diary. You said that you love your name, but you wished that someone would call you by a nickname sometimes. The last time you had a nickname was when your grandfather was still alive. He'd call you "Sugar," "Shug," and "Annie". You wished your parents would call you "Annie" but they always told you that it made you sound like a little girl, not the young lady you should be.

"I just figured that if you heard it, you'd be more prone to wake up. And I was right," Spencer finished with a satisfied grin.

Anna was silent for moment.

"How in the world did you remember that?" she asked.

"I, uh, well, I have an I.Q. of 187 and an eidetic memory, and I can read twenty thousand words per minute," said Spencer with an almost apologetic smirk.

"So you're a genius?" asked Anna.

"Um, yeah. Pretty much." He grinned. Anna gave him a smirk in return. And then her stomach rumbled.

She blushed, and then tried to push herself up to standing. She had moved about three inches when the room made a sharp ninety degree turn and she lost her balance. Spencer hurriedly grabbed her around the waist and lowered her back to the ground.

"You sit," he said, covering her lap with the blanket. "I'll get the food."

Spencer crossed the room and grabbed the plate and bottle of water, then made his way back to Anna. He took the plastic wrap off the plate and handed it to her.

"Let's see," he said, giving her the plastic fork. "We have bacon and eggs and two biscuits. Yum."

"You scoff, but this is good cookin' down here," said Anna in a southern accent that she did not normally speak with.

"Hey, you don't normally sound like that," said Spencer, wrestling with the water bottle cap.

"You've only known me for twelve hours," said Anna, picking up a strip of bacon.

"True, but in those twelve hours, you haven't spoken with that accent," said Spencer. "So where'd it come from?"

"Well, I _did_ grow up in the south, dear," Anna said. "But I've always spoken with a bit of a northern accent. And I have this little, completely useless talent of being able to talk in almost any accent."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll have to give you a demonstration someday," said Anna, shoveling eggs into her mouth. "Now switch." She pointed to the water bottle. Spencer handed it to her, taking the plate in return and beginning to eat.

"So, have you thought of anything that might help us get out of here?" Anna asked, screwing the lid back on the bottle.

"No, only the obvious," said Spencer, crunching on some bacon. "We have to attack him when he comes through the door."

"With what?" Anna asked. "I'm not in any condition to kick ass, and frankly, you're a creampuff." She gave him a smile.

"Hey!" said Spencer, swatting a hand playfully at her. "I'll have you know I have kicked very much ass since I joined the Bureau."

"Really?" Anna asked, leaning forward. "Do tell?"

"Well..." And Spencer launched into basically his whole life story. He had only meant to explain Phillip Dowd and Tobias Hankel, which then led into his addiction to Dilaudid, and from there he went into his mother and her schizophrenia, his father and his abandonment, then onto Gideon...For at least an hour Spencer went on and on, and he was just about to stop talking, wondering why she hadn't told him to shut up now because by now anyone else would have, when he looked up and was shocked. Anna was still staring at him, her eyes alert, hanging on his every word. Spencer was actually touched that someone would care about him and consider him important enough to sit and listen to his entire life experience. Then she did something that shocked him.

She leaned in and hugged him.

In one fluid movement, Anna gathered his awkward arms to his torso and wrapped him in an embrace. Spencer had gotten used to people touching him, quick pats on the shoulder, slaps on the back, even the occasional one-armed hug. But never some this enfolding. However, rather than shrink from it, Spencer leaned into it, feeling the comfort Anna offered. It was strange to Spencer, if this had been offered by anyone else (except maybe Garcia) it would have been a nice but awkward moment where he was too close to someone else's body. But with Anna, it just felt...nice. He guessed it was just another of her many quirks, being able to make just about anyone comfortable.

Pulling out of the hug at the same time she did, Spencer gave her a smile.

"Well, now that you know pretty much everything about me, would you care to share?" he asked.

"You've already read my diary," said Anna. "I write almost everything in it."

"Maybe, but it would be nice to hear it from the source." Spencer smiled. Anna gave him a grin back, and then went into her own life.

"Well, I was born in the nearest big city, Reddsboro..."

Two hours later, Anna had found her way to the subject of Kenny.

"I'd known him since sixth grade," she said. "But we didn't actually become friends until we started high school. Social outcasts tend find their way to one another. Well, he was kind of like me; very smart, very good with computers, and very good at math, which came in handy with my algebra class. Well, we had graduated high school, I went off to college, and he joined the military. Air Force. I always said he should have gone into the Marines. He'd just laugh and tell he was better with planes than ground work.

"Well, by this time, I had graduated, done my stint in elementary school, and joined the Bureau's White Collar Crimes in Charlotte. Kenny was here on a two week leave. I'll never forget the day I got that horrible phone call. I was sitting in the office, catching up on paperwork, when the phone rang. It was my mom, telling me that something had happened to Kenny and that I should come home as soon as possible. So I left work early, threw some clothes in a bag, and made the three hour trip in about two. As soon as I hit the door, my mom took my arm and sat me down in the living room.

"I asked what happened to Kenny, and she told me that the night before his car had been found by the side of the road in town...And-and that he was found next to it...he'd b-been shot...in the neck. He bled out there, on the side of the road, and no one stopped to help him. It took him a while...to die."

He left me in charge of his will and everything he owned, since his parents had died a few years earlier. I arranged his funeral. all I could think about was how he died there on the side of the road, alone. That's when I decided to join the BAU."

Spencer put a tentative hand on her shoulder for support, but when she let out a choked sob and tears slipped from her eyes, he reached out and pulled her closer, hugging her to him. He cradled her in his lap as his arms wrapped around her. She buried her face in his chest as sobs wracked her body, and Spencer ran his hand through her hair, trying to make a pseudo rocking motion.

A few minutes later Anna's sobs had subsided and she took her head away from Spencer's chest. Looking up at him, she gave him a watery smile. Spencer smiled back and, his arm still around her, he reached his other hand out and used his thumb to wipe the tears from her face.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Anna, smiling. And then her cheeks turned a little pink. "But we, um, have a bit of an issue."

"What is that?" asked Spencer, letting her sit back again.

"I, um, have to go to the, er, bathroom," she said haltingly.

"Oh," responded Spencer. Then he looked around at the little room. "_Oh._" He understood now.

There was only a thin partition separating the toilet from the room at large, and apparently Anna needed privacy. He could relate.

"Yeah," Anna said, grimacing funnily. "So, what are we gonna do about this?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Sorry guys, it's a little shorter than usual. I've been finding it hard to find time to write between redoecorating my room, getting ready for another year of college, and working, so I've been a little slow on updating. On a similar note; please tip your waitress at least $2, trust me, we appreciate it; tips make up the better part of our pay. So, without (much) further ado, chapter 13! Please read and review! Enjoy!**

Chapter Thirteen

"Lalalalalalalala..."

Anna padded back over to the pallet amidst the chorus of "lalala"s. She stopped for a second to take in the sight; Spencer sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing the wall, eyes shut tight, hands over his ears, yelling "lalalalalala" as loud as he could. This was what they had decided on so that Anna could use the restroom in semi-peace.

She stood for a few seconds, giggling quietly at the lean man with his hands flat against his ears, awkward elbows jutting straight out, sing-yelling.

"Lalalalalalala...!"

Finally she took pity on him. Anna walked over to him (well, more of a limp, really) and set her hand on his shoulder.

"Lalalalalalal-Oh!"

Spencer jumped a little, startled, which only made Anna laugh more. He mock glared at her, and then broke out into his own small smile-he was happy to see her laughing in the middle of this hell.

"All finished?" he asked, realizing the second he said it how stupid it sounded.

"Nah, thought I'd take a break," she said sarcastically. "Just let me know when you feel like shoving your fingers back in your ears." She smirked at him.

That was one of the first thing Spencer had learned about Anna; she was incredibly sarcastic, sometimes to the point of cynicism , but it was usually all in good humor. It was her own brand of funny, and Spencer found himself liking it.

Anna sat down next to him, and sucked in her breath when she felt a sharp pain in her side. Her hand flew to the spot and she grimaced. This did not escape Spencer.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Anna, breathing again. "I think he may have bruised my ribs."

"Bruised? Not broken, right?" asked Spencer worriedly, and before he actually thought, his hand was over hers on her side.

Anna smiled. "I don't think so. I bruised my ribs once, when I was twelve. Fell off the top bunk at camp. This feels a lot like then."

"You went to camp?"

"Yeah. Bible camp."

"Really? How was that?"

"I hated it. I'm an atheist."

"Oh," said Spencer, surprised. This was the Bible belt, he just assumed most people believed.

"That's about how everyone else reacts, unless it's straight out denial." Anna smiled. "You should've seen my grandma's reaction."

"Oh." He gave a hesitant smile, not knowing what to say. After a few moments of awkward silence, he spoke again. "I'm...I think that's what I am. I've never given it much thought, but I have a hard time believing that one single...being created, well, everything."

"And there's the whole Adam and Eve thing," said Anna. "Okay, those two had Cain and Able, but I don't remember anything about any girls. So how did they populate the planet? And then there's Lucy and the new one they've come out with, Ardie, I think." She stopped and looked at him. "Sorry. When you live where I live and people won't leave you alone, you come up with quite a few points to argue."

"No, I understand," said Spencer. "I believe in facts, and you have a point."

"Anyway, let's find another subject. No faith that a higher power is looking out for you seems a little depressing at the moment, and I'd like to have a little faith in something."

"Have faith in my team," said Spencer. "I do. They've managed to get me out of every mess I've been into."

"Alright, I will," said Anna. "So, tell me about your team. What are they like?"

"Well, there's Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief, our leader. He's the, er, strong, silent type. Face like stone and a glare that could kill. Actually, it might kill and he just hasn't unleashed the power yet, I'm not sure. He was married, but his wife was killed last year; it's a long story. He has a son, Jack.

"David Rossi is-"

"Wait, Rossi?" Anna interrupted excitedly. "_The_ David Rossi? You _work_ with him? Wow!"

"Um, yeah," said Spencer, turning red, but smiling all the same. _Great, another fan. Rossi's gonna _love_ this._ "So you know about Rossi. He's like the father of our group. Or the grandfather, whichever.

"Emily Prentiss is the daughter of an ambassador and she...pretty much kicks ass. That's how you sum her up.

"JJ is our media liaison. She's not technically a profiler, but she's just as good as the rest of us. She lives with her boyfriend-fiancé-person, and they have a son, Henry." A goofy smile crossed his face. "I'm Henry's godfather."

"Aww!" cried Anna. She couldn't help it; she was a sucker for men and babies. Spencer felt his face burn again.

"Then there's Morgan. One word: Player. Two words: Lady's Man. But he's a good guy, and a loyal friend. He normally acts like a total idiot, but he's serious when he needs to be.

"And finally there's Garcia, the Oracle of Quantico, the Fount of all Knowledge, the...well, she has too many nicknames to say them all. Anyway, she's out technical analyst."

"Technical analyst? That's with computers and stuff, right?"

"Yeah. She used to be a hacker, but now she tracks anything we need her to via the Internet, keeps track of everything we do, and I think she writes code in her spare time."

Anna looked at him, deadpan expression. "Mmhmm. Yeah, I'm pretty much technologically illiterate, so I have absolutely no idea what you just said."

Spencer thought for a moment.

"She makes clicky noises on her keyboard and helps us catch the bad guys," he said.

Anna nodded her head and smiled. "Got it."

Spencer rolled his eyes, but returned her smile.

"She's also very, um, vibrant." _Wow, _that's _an understatement._ "She loves colors-"

"Like green?" Anna asked, reminding Spencer of an excited, hyper-active child.

"Yes, she likes green. And pink, and yellow, and purple. And she loves pens, especially fuzzy ones. Actually, I think you'd get along great with her. She's a bit eccentric, though. She's also Henry's godmother."

"Do you have a picture of your godson?" asked Anna. Again, she was a sucker for men and babies.

"Yeah, it's in my wallet," Spencer said, reaching into his back pocket. "Let me get-Oh." He pulled his hand back." Morris took it."

"Oh," said Anna, disappointed. It was an odd thing about her, but seeing babies would almost always bring her out of a bad mood.

"Well, he's...wow, he's almost two now!" said Spencer, grinning. "Man, time's getting away from me. He'll be two in November. He has blue eyes and, uh, blonde hair, chubby pink cheeks, and almost all of his teeth that he uses to make very mischievous smiles that means he's up to something."

"He sounds absolutely adorable," said Anna, picturing an angelic toddler with a devilish smile that made her grin.

"You'll have to see him sometime," said Spencer. "You'll be in the BAU, you can come over from your team and meet mine, and maybe JJ can bring Henry in."

"That would be so great," Anna said excitedly. "I gave up being a teacher, but I still love little kids. I actually kind of miss being around them. That's why I babysit my little cousins as much as I can."

"I've only ever watched Henry, and not for very long. No, wait, I've watched him overnight once. I went straight home and napped for the rest of the day."

Anna laughed. "You're a lightweight. I've watched three on my own, overnight, three days straight. Then left and went straight to work."

Spencer looked at her, mouth hanging.

"And one was a three-year-old still stuck in terrible twos," finished Anna in a self-satisfying tone, a superior smirk on her face.

"I bow to you," said Spencer, inclining his head. "I would die if I had to do that. One is hard enough; I can't imagine three." Anna just smiled.

xXx

By now the rest of the BAU had woken up, gotten ready, and made their way to the police station, desperate to find their young genius.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Sorry! No, I haven't died, I've just been realy busy. I had an online class while waitressing until midnight four nights a week over the summer, and then I went back to college, where move in took a lot of time, and then there's this really cute guy who talks to me but I have no idea how he feels about me; but we're not gonna get into that. But now I'm settled in and working on a routine, so I should be able to update more frequently. I hope. Oh, and I changed my penname. I figure AnnaFrog was just shorter and cuter and took a lot less time to type. So, here's chapter 14, enjoy! Review, please?**

Chapter Fourteen

The remaining members of the BAU had tried their best to sleep, but lying in bed led their thoughts to wander, and last night they had all ended up on Reid. Where was their genius? What had happened to the young man? Would they find him in time? And if they didn't, what would happen-this was the point at which a television was turned on, a trip to the bathroom happened, or a walk to the coffee pot made. No one could bring themselves to think about that.

So after eight hours, everyone finally stopped fooling themselves and got up, showered, dressed, and met in the hallway. They shared a silent breakfast, and then an equally silent ride in three SUVs to the sheriff's station.

Here they sat and stared at the evidence board until they could have burned holes in it. None of the local officers had anything new to add, so they all stayed out of the room. And none of the FBI agents felt like cop coffee, so they stayed secluded in their room. And this is how they were when Garcia called, three hours after they had arrived.

"Morgan," Derek answered.

"Hey. I finally sifted through North Carolina's records enough to uncover what we need on Dylan Morris," said the voice on the other end very quickly.

"What do you have, Garcia?" asked Hotch, eyes narrowed at the phone in Morgan's hand.

"Dylan Craig Morris, born March twenty-eighth, nineteen eighty-six. Only son of Craig and Deborah Morris, both deceased."

"Address, Garcia. We need an address," said Rossi.

"Thirteen seventy-four Fox Country Road, it's his father's house. He left it to him in his will. Good luck, my loves. Bring my baby back!"

And with that they had all hopped into their SUVs, local officers behind them in their cars, all lights blazing.

They reached Morris's home on Fox Country Road, the same one that Reid had found himself at the day before, and strapped themselves into their bullet-proof vests. Then they got the call-the warrant had been pushed through and signed, which meant that Morgan had permission to-

_BAM!_

"FBI! Dylan Morris, come out!"

Hotch followed Morgan through the broken door, then Emily, Rossi, and JJ. All had their guns out as they went from room to room. After the fifth "Clear!" everyone gathered in the dirty living room.

"He's not here," said Emily, holstering her gun. "And I doubt Reid and Anna Myers are here, either."

"He has to be holding them somewhere else," said Rossi. "Okay, he's in the beginning of a psychotic break, holding a girl he believes is his girlfriend, and an FBI agent-"

"Agents," interrupted an officer, "there's a man out here, I think you ought to listen to him."

Hotch nodded, then followed the officer out, the others on his heels.

Outside stood a rough-looking man with a plaid sleeveless shirt (and it appeared that becoming sleeveless had been against the shirt's will) and long brown hair.

"Can I help you?" asked Hotch.

"I'm Randy Russell, I live 'cross the street," said the man. "You guys're the FBI, right? I talked to one of yer agents yesterdee. String-bean sorta kid, tall with brown hair."

"Reid?" asked Hotch, hopefully that they might have found a lead.

"Don't know 'is name, but he had a badge like yers," said Randy. "Said he was lookin' fer Dylan. Ya'll found 'im yet?"

"No, we haven't," said Hotch. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"Like I told the other agent, he works from five in the mornin' and don't git home 'til 'bout 'leven at night. But if yer lookin' fer 'im after work, ya might wanna try his huntin' bunker a few miles out. He likes to stay out there sometimes. Real nice; got a bathroom an' all."

This caught Hotch's attention. The look on Rossi's face told him that the other man had come to the same conclusion: this was where Morris was keeping Reid and Anna.

"Can you tell us exactly where this bunker is?" Hotch asked.

They were given the same directions as Reid, and then set off. However, Hotch, having lived in Virginia for most of his life with regular trips to the southern cities, was able to decipher the man's language, and a plan was forming.

"Okay," said Hotch. "Let's go back to the station and regroup. Then we head out to Morris's bunker."

Everyone just hoped that they wouldn't be too late.

xXx

Spencer and Anna were still sitting in the room, talking about everything and nothing, just trying to keep each other company and abate the depressing hopelessness that was setting in. They had long since finished formulating a plan to get out; the only thing that they could come up with would be to jump Morris when he entered and hope they could make it out.

Spencer noticed how Anna seemed to sag and droop as the minutes passed, and he didn't like it. It didn't fit her. Happy and spunky and maybe a little sarcastic at times, but not this sad "I'm-close-to-giving-up" attitude. He wanted to find some way to distract her, something else for her to think about. Suddenly Morgan's voice entered his head.

And then it hit him.

Spencer rooted around in his pockets for something, anything that Morris left him. He took his badge, gun, and wallet, but not his loose change. Pulling his hand out discreetly, he pointed to Anna's head.

"Hey, what's that behind your ear?" he asked, hiking a perplexed look on his face.

"Oh god, what?" Anna asked, beginning to freak out. First it was a violent kidnapping, then torture, and now there may be ants or spiders or who knows what other god-awful creepy crawlies nesting away in her hair? What next?

"Here, hold still," said Spencer, reaching his hand out towards her messy hair. "Wait...I think...I got it. Here!" He withdrew his hand with a flick of his wrist, and presented to her a slightly less-than-shiny quarter. Anna's face went from freaked out, to befuddled, and finally broke into a grin.

"So you're a magician, too, huh?" she asked, grabbing his hand and examining it, looking for some kind of wire or secret pocket.

"Yep," Spencer piped up, smiling proudly. "It's a hobby." _Thank you, thank you, thank you, Morgan! I don't like thinking of Anna as a "chick", but magic definitely seems to have helped! I'll have to buy him a drink when we get out of this._

Anna finally let go of his hand, apparently satisfied that there were no mirrors or anything of the like.

"How'd you do that?" she asked, eyebrows knitted and narrowed in a way that Spencer could only describe as adorable.

"Magicians never reveal their secrets," said Spencer, smiling. "But you can have this," he handed her the quarter, "and you can buy a gumball when we're out of this."

Anna rolled her eyes and pocketed the quarter, the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

And after a few minutes devoted to his roots in magic, the topic was finished. For now. And Spencer knew that there was one more thing they could discuss that would last a while. Relationships. He figured he should be the one to initiate it.

And he did. In the most awkward way he had ever heard before in his life.

"So, uh, do-do you have a, uh, boyfriend?"

He really wanted to kick himself right now. Or at least cram his shoe in his mouth to stop himself saying more.

"Nope," sighed Anna. "Haven't for a while."

"Really?" asked Spencer, his voice raising, either from embarrassment or some sort of strange hope, he wasn't sure. "Why?"

"When Kenny died, I just didn't have the energy or the heart to do it." said Anna.

"Oh, did you..." he hesitated, not sure how to breech this possibly sensitive subject. Anna seemed to have understood him.

"What? Oh, no. No," she said, and Spencer's stomach unclenched. Funny, he hadn't been aware that his muscles had tightened.

"No. Well, yes, okay, there was that like month in eleventh grade when I thought about it, but no. There really wasn't anything.

"I mean, I dated in a guy in high school, and two or three dates in college, but nothing very...serious." She gave him a sad smile. "It's kind of sad when, at nineteen, you're planning how single motherhood would suit you. I've pretty much given up on the idea of marriage. I figured I'd throw myself into my work, and then adopt or have a baby via donor a few years later."

"Well that's a little...depressing," said Spencer.

Anna shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said. "But no one seemed interested in me, so I just gave up. Flirting is hard." She gave a small smile, a look of determination in her eyes. "But my dream has always been to be a mother. Come Hell or high water, I will have children." She suddenly lost the sparkle and hung her head. "At least, that was the plan, anyway." She sighed, looking utterly defeated.

Spencer frowned and hesitantly put his hand under her chin, lifting her head. He looked her in the eye.

"Hey. Stop that. You're going to get out of here. My team's probably already looking for me, and they will find us. Don't worry."

Anna just looked at him, then turned away and shakily stood.

"I hope you're right," she said, slowly making her way across the room for no other reason than to move around. "Because if I have to go another day without coffee, you might not make it out of here alive."

Spencer just smiled at the defensive move, but he could see her starting to crack. He just hoped he was right, that the team were on their way. Before Anna gave up completely.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: So, almost as if to make up for about a month of nothingness, my muse (I really should find her a name) has found it in me to give two chapters in a week! I know, crazy, right? So, I have my mind on the sequel right now (actually, I'm thinking about a series of one-shot sequels, leading into another chapter fic or so), so all of my focus has not been on this. Unfortunately. But I do believe it is passable, and it gets us in the direction I want, so I approve. Review, please, as they make my day when I'm feeling stressed (which happens a lot lately). Enjoy!**

Chapter Fifteen

Hours had passed since Morris left, and Spencer's and Anna's stomachs were starting to growl. Which meant that it was almost time for dinner. Which also meant that Morris would be back.

And neither Anna nor Spencer had forgotten his last words.

Sitting in the corner, ideas of escape were running through Spencer's head. He could try punching Morris, but Spencer had never been very strong. He could try some way of distracting him so that Anna could run, but that left him with more of less a death sentence. He sighed and looked over at his fellow prisoner.

Anna was curled up in a ball on the pallet, back resting against the wall. She would have appeared completely calm to anyone else, but Spencer could see her right hand shaking. She had told him that when she was nervous or scared, she could always hide it, except for the shaking of her right hand. Spencer honestly wanted nothing more than to be able to wrap his arms around her and tell her she was being silly and that nothing was going to happen to her, but he couldn't do that.

And it pissed him off.

He could feel anger bubbling inside him; at Morris for taking Anna and hurting her, at his team for not finding them yet, at the injustice of someone as sweet as Anna Myers being harmed for no reason at all, and at himself for not being strong enough to save her from this hell.

And as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Well, mostly. He was still mighty pissed at Morris, and the injustice. And himself, but he'd deal with that one later.

Spencer fixed a stony glare at the heavy door, daring Morris to enter.

xXx

The rest of the team had arrived back at the station, and the Sheriff had called in as many officers as he could. They all gathered in the largest room in the station, waiting for instructions from the FBI agents.

Hotch came striding into the room, followed very quickly by the other agents. He made his way to the front of the room, and began speaking immediately.

"We believe the UnSub is a man named Dylan Morris. We've just been to his house, and he's not there. His neighbor told us his work hours," Hotch looked at his watch, then back at the room, "and he should just now be getting off work. His neighbor also told us that he does not get home until much later, and that he spends most of his time at a hunting bunker on some property he owns in the woods. This is where we think he's keeping Agents Myers and Reid.

"We need everyone to listen. We're going to split everyone into groups, then head out to Morris's land in the woods and try to find his bunker." Hotch took a piece of paper from the Sheriff. "Listen as I call your name."

xXx

Anna jumped and gave a small, choked shriek as Reid snapped to attention. The door was opening.

The sound of heavy boots preceded the terror that was Morris into the room. He slowly made his way through the door, stinking of cigarettes and cheap beer. He was breathing heavy. He was angry.

"Melanie!" he yelled as soon as he was visible, eyes narrowed at Anna, completely ignoring Spencer. "MELANIE!" he yelled louder. Anna gave a frightened squeak that Spencer did not think her capable of, and curled up even tighter, trying to make herself invisible.

"You thought I'd forget, didn't you?" said Morris in a dangerous whisper, advancing slowly upon her. He was getting much too close to Anna for Spencer's comfort, but he waited in hopes that the man would make a mistake that Spencer could exploit.

"You thought ol' Dylan would forgive you, didn't you?" the unstable man asked. "I've forgiven you before, Melanie, because you know I can't say no to you. But this is the final straw. You ridicule me and sleep with some man? Someone you don't even _know_? And you expect me to forgive you and take you _back_?" He was now right on top of her, looming over her cowering form. Spencer's muscles were tense; his mind's effort to stop his body's natural reaction to snatch her up before the psycho could get any closer.

"Well you thought _wrong_!" Morris snapped, his hand coming back and flying into Anna's face before she could react.

The resounding _smack_ propelled Spencer into action. What he was going to do, exactly, he had no idea.

But damn if wasn't going to do _something_!

xXx

The BAU had divided the officers into teams, and now they were all headed for Morris's land, lights and sirens blazing. It was getting darker by the minute, and the officers would have preferred to search the woods by daylight, but the BAU was having none of it. Two agents were in trouble and they were not waiting another minute.

Hotch's SUV was in the lead, with Rossi riding shotgun, and Prentiss in the back. Morgan and JJ were following behind them, keeping up the breakneck speed. Local cops were bringing up the end, in every vehicle the station possessed.

Hotch's knuckles were white on the wheel, his face set in grim determination. He had just lost his wife; he'd be damned if he was going to lose a friend.

xXx

Morris's punch landed on Anna's temple just as his hand pulled away from the slap. He began his barrage of fists and kicks, backing Anna into the wall, giving her no means of escape. She whimpered with every painful, violent collision.

"HEY!" Morris heard a yell.

He stopped for a fraction of a second and turned around, looking for the source of the noise.

That was all the time Spencer needed.

He launched himself into Morris, tackling him much in the same way he had seen Morgan tackle countless UnSubs. They both landed on the ground with a _thud_ and began to scuffle, both still shocked at Spencer's antics. Then the scuffling fell through to outright fighting for life.

Spencer was able to land a few good punches before Morris overcame him and began to pound into his torso. Spencer managed to roll them over and a aimed a kick at Morris's head, missing, giving the other man opportunity to stand and begin kicking at him.

A hard foot to his stomach knocked the breath out of Spencer, and he just caught a flash of movement to his side. The next thing he heard was a grunt of pain from Morris; Anna had taken a running leap into him, knocking him back to the ground. She tried anything she could think of; clawing at his face, punching him in the head, kneeing him in the groin, but she just couldn't get anything to connect. Morris, on the other hand, was having much better luck. He grabbed her arm and jerked it back, wrenching it, then beat her back as much as he could before trying to ram her head into the floor.

Anna managed to get an arm between her head and the floor, but it still hurt like a bitch when she was forced to pretty much beat herself in the forehead repeatedly.

Behind her she heard rustling, then running, and the bashing stopped. Morris's weight was lifted off of her and she raised her head in time to see Spencer using the momentum of his run to shove Morris into a wall. He then gripped the nutcase's head and began to beat against said wall as hard as he could.

Spencer couldn't stop the beating, wouldn't stop it. If he stopped it, the man would turn around and go after Anna again. And he couldn't let that happen. Not to Anna. Not Annie. So he kept on, repeatedly slamming the man's head against the wall. Once. Twice. Five. Even when he felt the man go slack and stop making noise. Ten. Eleven. Twelve times he did this, until a whimper made him stop.

"Spencer."

It was soft, hurt. Spencer felt his hand let go of Morris's head and the man fell to the ground, unmoving. Instead of checking on him, his feet moved quickly in Anna's direction. She was still on the floor, hadn't moved. Spencer ran to her and knelt down beside her, putting a hand on her back.

"Are you okay?" he asked, suddenly aware of how much she was bleeding.

"Yeah," she said, a little breathlessly, looking up at him, and he was also suddenly aware just how deep brown and beautiful they were, no matter how much purple circled them. "Uh, hel-help me up?" she asked, weakly extending a hand. He grabbed it and pulled her up gently, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling hers over his shoulder to steady her.

Anna looked at Morris, still unmoving next to the wall, then at the door, left wide open.

"I think we should take the chance now," she said hurriedly. "If he's not dead yet, he might wake up soon."

Spencer nodded his head, and he found that he could feel no regret if he had indeed killed Morris. The bastard deserved what he got.

They made their way over to the heavy door, where they found a set of rickety stairs. Spencer helped Anna slowly up the stairs, and they made their way to the top, where they were confronted with a trap door of sorts. Spencer pushed it open, and they discovered that they had been held underground. All around them were trees, and no clear indication which way led to civilization.

It was dark out, a little after twilight, and growing darker as Spencer pulled Anna from the hole in the ground. With no idea where they were, nor where they were headed, they set off, their only goal to get as far away from that hell as possible.


End file.
